
BY WALTER 



SH6LDON 




Class 

Book.. _£££ 

Copyright^ . 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



l6tMc0 for tbe |j)oung 



SECOND SERIES 



LESSONS 

IN THE 



STUDY OF HABITS 



FOR USE IN SCHOOL AND HOME. 



BY WALTER L* SHELDON 



W. M. WELCH COMPANY 

CHICAGO 



<* 



^ib 5.iA-/tf 3 



^ 111 ^ 




COPYRIGHT, 1903 

By W. M. WELCH & CO. 



PREFACE. 

There is a growing conviction among thoughtful 
people that ethics should constitute an integral part of 
the education of the young. A demand for text books 
on this subject is sure to arise, both for the use of the 
school and the home. With this thought in -view, the 
author has been at work for several years on a graded 
scheme of ethical instruction for young people, cov- 
ering the period from early childhood to adult life. 
Much of this material is* now in manuscript form, and 
he is venturing in this volume to present one of the 
series of Lessons more especially adapted for the age 
from nine to twelve years. The thread of subject 
has to do with Habits of Life. The next series would 
deal with "Duties in the Home and the Family," to be 
followed by a treatise on "Citizenship and the Duties 
of a Citizen." Then would come a further text book 
on the most practical subject of "Justice." These 
would constitute a grammar school course. The later 
volumes to appear would take up in separate treatises 
the subjects of "Dtaties Pertaining to One's Self," and 
"Man in Society." The greater part of all this material 
has already been tried in a special school in charge of 
the author and proved to be successful. After testing 
the work in this way, he has been putting it through a 
thorough revision, incorporating by this means the 
experience which has been gained in the class work 
where the Lessons have been used. The most serious 
problem in connection with the whole subject has been 
to arrange the line of work so that it should in no 
way interfere with the special religious standpoint of 
the schools or families where the Lessons are intro- 
duced. The author has sought with painstaking care 
to be neutral in this direction, developing the points in 



4 PREFACE. 

such a way that the teacher or parent might add on at 
any place the religious attitude desired, without mak- 
ing any confusion in the text. He believes, therefore, 
that such treatises could be employed in the home or 
the school room — in the grammar schools on the one 
hand, where any definite form of religious instruction 
would perhaps be excluded; and on the other hand, 
equally well in denominational Sunday-schools where 
doctrinal standpoints could be merged into the text 
at the judgment or discretion of the teacher. The 
main effort has been to sift out the great essentials of 
ethical conduct established by the long experience of 
ages of human history, and to impart them in conver- 
sational form to the young and growing mind before 
it has come into active contact with the world at large. 
It will be seen that each lesson as it is worked out 
usually contains a variety of material to be introduced 
by the teacher or parent according to circumstances. 
The body of each lesson will be found to consist of an 
imaginary Dialogue carried on between the child and 
the adult, and is intended either as a skeleton of method 
for the teacher, or as paragraphs to be read and 
studied by the pupil if preferred. At the outset there 
is a series of "Special Suggestions" to the parent or 
teacher which of course should be read with a great 
deal of care. In this special volume the material is of 
a miscellaneous character, with each Lesson standing 
by itself. But in the ensuing series, which may appear 
later on, the method becomes much more systematic, 
after the young people have become infused with the 
spirit which pervades this whole course of instruction. 
It is to be assumed that in such an important field 
where as yet so little has really been done, no two per- 
sons would quite agree on points of detail. Before 
many years have passed, a whole literature pertaining 
to this subject will have developed. The most that 
the author can hope, therefore, is to have helped in 
paving the way for better work to be done by others 
in coming years. Walter L. Sheldon. 

4065 Delmar Ave., St. Louis, Mo. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE. 

Special Suggestions to Parents or Teachers .... 7 

Meaning of Habit 18 

A Further Consideration of Habit 26 

Perseverance .. 34 

Being Conceited 41 

Order 47 

Consideration for Others 54 

Being Lazy 62 

Deception 70 

Being Saving yy 

Being Soldierly 86 

Citizen Soldiers ; Chivalry . 94 

Ambition 101 

Procrastination 109 

Habits of Play 115 

Self-Denial , . 125 

Being Brave 131 

Habit of Teasing 140 

Humility 146 

Pride 154 

Frugality 162 

Habits of Study 170 

Exaggeration 178 

Profanity 186 

The Habit of Borrowing 194 

Habits of Service 201 

Generosity and Stinginess 214 

Cheating 222 

Prejudices 230 

Respect for the Property of Others 239 

Conscientiousness 251 

The Habit of Speaking the Truth 260 

5 



SPECIAL SUGGESTIONS TO' PARENTS OR 

TEACHERS IN USING THESE LESSONS 

ON "THE HABITS." 

It is to be remembered that these lessons contain 
merely suggestive hints or outlines. Each chapter is 
a skeleton -which is to be used or adapted according to 
circumstances. The teacher must put on the flesh and 
blood by his personality, by the way he puts the ques- 
tions, the interest he personally shows, and the insight 
he displays into the minds of his pupils. If the method 
is a new one to the person using it, naturally it will 
work a Utile awkwardly at first. One cannot teach 
ethics as one would teach arithmetic. 

The material introduced is of a varied character, with 
the expectation that the teacher will select from it at 
his judgment and discretion. The scheme is intended 
for use in the Grammar School, the Home or the Sun- 
day-school, and hence must be modified accordingly. 
It would be a mistake to employ quite the same meth- 
od under such diverse conditions. In this department 
of instruction, we must try many experiments and ad- 
just our system to the grade or character of the pupils, 
the home or the school where we are teaching. The 
material can be the same, but not the form of its appli- 
cation. Lessons in ethics cannot be worked out along 
the same fixed lines that would be suitable in other 
departments of study. 



8 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

These outlines could be used in one of two ways. 

On the one hand, the teacher could read over the 
notice carefully and thoughtfully, choosing what points 
he thinks most appropriate under the circumstances ; 
then laying the book aside and proceeding according 
to his own experience. In this form it zvould be a 
simple conversation carried on bet-ween teacher and 
pupil and not at all like a recitation. 

Or, on the other hand, if the parent or teacher pre- 
fers, the "Dialogue" which makes up the body of each 
chapter could be placed in the hands of the pupil to 
be read or studied as a lesson. In this case the child 
Would be expected to know in advance the points of 
discussion, and the class work would be more in the 
nature of a recitation, with additional features brought 
out by the adult. If this method is followed, the pupil 
might be encouraged to add further points of his 
own. It would depend a good deal upon the type of 
young people one is dealing with, as to which course 
should be pursued. 

It will be noticed that these lessons on "The Habits" 
are without any special order or connection one with 
another. We are making the great introduction into 
the problems of ethics for the child-mind by these 
talks, and in Ms apparently haphazard way, we are 
undertaking to teach them just as life teaches them — 
by experience. It zvill not be necessary, therefore, to 
adhere to any special order in the arrangement of the 
chapters. The main point here must be to have vari- 
ety.. If we have been talking for tzvo or three sessions 
about bad habits, then we may change over to a study 
of one of the good habits. 

There are several classes of material at command. 
The teacher will soon recognize the method and adapt 
himself to it by adapting it to himself. 'Most import- 
ant of all, of course, will be the 'Dialogue," which 
forms the central portion of each chapter. It zvill be 
seen that this is carried on in the form of an imaginary 



A STUDY OF HABITS. Q 

conversation between the teacher and the pupil. We 
do not assume, for an instant, that the answers to the 
questions will come out quite as they are given here. 
It is rather a method, which is presented for the use of 
the teacher. It should be examined in each case, and 
then put aside. The author is simply endeavoring by 
such means to foster a system of instruction, by which 
the adult shall seem ahvays to be drawing on the ex- 
perience of the pupils themselves. This, of course, is 
possible only to a limited degree; but the method can 
be steadily pursued all the same. 

The author, therefore, has deemed it advis- 
able to preserve this form of an imaginary 
dialogue throughout the entire course of les- 
sons. It may prove somewhat monotonous to 
the parent or teacher. Those who have had a thor- 
ough normal school training will, perhaps, feel that 
the chapters might often be condensed into a few lines 
in the form of suggestive hints. But in such a new 
department of instruction, it would seem better to err 
on the safe side. There are others who would prefer 
to have the lessons worked out in this form, at least 
until they have mastered the system. It is lesson- 
material we are here presenting, and not a scheme of 
ethics. We are not merely describing a method, but 
endeavoring to bring together such a variety of ma- 
terial, that parents or teachers, whether or not they 
have had special training, may be able to employ it in 
the home or the school. 

The teacher is not, for an instant, to be tied down 
to the order in which the points are introduced. No 
two persons would carry on such a dialogue in the 
same form. He may begin with the -final thought, if 
he chooses, and work backward. The one essential 
is, hoivever, that he should have a thorough perspec- 
tive of the whole lesson, and know just what chief 
thought he wishes to bring out, so that as far as pos- 
sible, this shall form the core of his discussion for the 



IO A STUDY OF HABITS. 

day. It should alimys be in his mind, although the 
pupils may not be aware of it. 

At the end of the "Dialogue'' will usually be found 
a list of "The Points of the Lesson/' These are in- 
tended rather as helps to the teacher, although they 
might at discretion be used at times for a summary to 
the pupils at the close of the discussion. They do not, 
by any means, cover all the thoughts worked out in 
"The Dialogue." They serve rather as a suggestion for 
persons of less experience in educational work, giving 
in this way some hints as to the thoughts which are to 
be emphasized. A good teacher will, naturally, work 
out his own scheme, and make such a list for himself, 
with the additional points which will surely occur to 
him after reading over the "Dialogue." 

It will be seen at once that the discussions may cover 
only a very small portion of what might be brought out 
concerning each one of these habits. Each chapter 
could easily be elaborated into a volume. At times 
the "Dialogue" is only a feeble introduction to a field 
which could be extended indefinitely by the teacher. 
He may, therefore, prefer to continue for several ses- 
sions dealing with some one of these habits; or, on the 
other hand, the points of view which occur to him may 
seem of much more significance than those which are 
worked out here in the "Dialogue." If, however, the 
sessions of the class are held only once a week, it were 
better to have a new form of the subject for the pupils 
each time, even if the topic continues practically the 
same in the mind of the teacher. We must be on the 
lookout all the while not to tire the young people by 
holding on too long to one theme. 

At the beginning of each chapter will be found a col- 
lection of "Proverbs or Verses." These are massed 
together at this point merely for the sake of conveni- 
ence. They form one other class of material to be 
used in a great variety of ways, at the discretion of 



A STUDY OF HABITS. II 

the teacher. In the "Dialogue" we have occasionally 
introduced one of these, merely as illustrating one 
method by which they can be made available. At one 
time the teacher might begin by reading aloud the 
whole collection at once to the pupils, then asking the 
young people to guess from this what is going to be the 
subject for discussion. Another method would be to 
have these selections written out on slips of paper and 
distributed in the class, letting each member read one 
of them aloud and asking him to explain it. Or, 
again, this special material could be reserved until the 
end of the discussion, and then read over aloud as a 
climax, without comment, to close the session with. 
More usually, however, they will serve the purpose of 
bringing out special points in the lesson, where the 
teacher can take one of them and apply it in the form 
of a discussion. It will be readily seen how the leader 
of the class can help himself out continually in this 
way, whenever he finds difficulty over the abstractions 
of the "Dialogue." A whole session could be given 
over, for instance, merely to talking about the Prov- 
erbs and what they mean. The list can easily be en- 
larged. Some of them might well be committed to 
memory. 

There is usually attached to each chapter a short 
poem, which is intended to add a little sentiment to the 
lesson. This, too, could be introduced by the teacher 
in a variety of ways, as with the collection of "Prov- 
erbs." It might form the subject for discussion in the 
course of the "Dialogue," or be read aloud by one of 
the members of the class at the beginning or the end, 
of the session. On the whole it would be better, how- 
ever, if this poem were used mainly for recitation pur- 
poses, within the class or before the entire school; but 
it should be recited by individuals singly, and never in 
concert. Even if the literary merit of these selections 
is not always of the highest, it may be still worth 
while to fix certain points in the memory by means of 
such rhymes. 



12 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

In connection zvith certain of the discussions will 
also be found a list of "Duties." Where these are in- 
troduced, they should be treated as of the greatest im- 
portance. If is intended that they should be written 
out or printed on slips of paper and committed to mem- 
ory by each of the pupils. This should be treated as 
the most serious part of the lesson. A certain element 
of solemnity should be attached to the word "Duty." 
It should be used only on special occasions, and. then 
with reverence. 

It is vitally essential, especially in connection with 
the discussions on "The Habits," that the teacher 
should make an extensive collection of short stories or 
anecdotes. IV e have introduced material of this kind 
only to a limited extent, partly for the reason that it 
would require too much space, and also because of the 
fact that personal preferences may vary in this direc- 
tion. But without this it would rarely be possible to 
carry on such a discussion with success. The mind 
of the young child is, of course, concrete. We must 
accept this fact, and deal accordingly. At times the 
lesson could be opened by means of a story or anec- 
dote ; or, on the other hand, a special point may be 
clinched by this means. Where these lessons are used, 
there should be a gradual accumulation of such mate- 
rial from which the teacher may select, so that he can 
have variety. 

But from another side, the teacher is especially 
warned to exercise caution in the way this illustrative 
material is used. It may, on the one hand, help the 
discussion to success, or on the other hand, it may 
practically overthrow the entire effect desired. If one 
is not on the lookout, the whole session may be con- 
sumed in telling stories or anecdotes. The temptation 
in this direction will be great, because it will be found 
much easier by this means to hold the interest of the 
members of the class. It is the point of the story and 
not the story itself we are to consider, in a scheme of 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 1 3 

ethical instruction. We are to remember that our 
readings, our facts, our anecdotes or stories are mainly 
brought in for the purpose of working a certain im- 
pression on the mind or heart. After this purpose 
has been accomplished, the illustrative material can be 
lost sight of. 

At the close of each chapter will usually be found 
a paragraph with (t Further Suggestions to the Teach- 
er." These are simply additional hints showing at 
times how the discussion might be carried on further, 
or mentioning points that have not been already intro- 
duced. By this means also, the author has occasional- 
ly specified anecdotes or biographies which would be 
of service in connection with the subject of the chapter. 
Hence these closing suggestions may be of consider- 
able importance, and should be read with some care. 
At the same time, it is to be assumed that every good 
teacher will be expanding these "further suggestions" 
and working out a whole new chapter for himself in 
addition to the one presented in these outlines. 

It is to be understood that in using these lessons a 
great deal depends on the age of the pupils. They 
might be of service for young people all the way from 
nine to sixteen years. But in each case, it will be 
necessary to adapt them by expanding or omitting, re- 
wording or illustrating, according to the experience or 
home surroundings of the pupils. So far as these 
notes are concerned, the author has had in view young 
people of about ten years of age. The same point 
also applies with regard to the personal characteristics, 
circumstances or temperament of the young people 
constituting the members of a class. We should pur- 
sue one method for pupils who are thoughtful and 
serious, and a radically contrary method according as 
they may have had little home training and are accus- 
tomed chiefly to the life of the streets. 

If we are working with a class of young people who 



14 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

have had little home education, then we should adjust 
our discussions so as to make only a few points, and to 
bear down on these with heavy underscoring. Fine 
shadings or careful distinctions in ethics are only 
serviceable where we are dealing with thoughtful 
young people. If these are introduced to the other 
type, they may work the very opposite effect from what 
we intend or desire. It is useless and perhaps worse, 
to undertake to make points which the young people, 
owing to the circumstances of their life, will never apply 
and perhaps cannot even appreciate. For a certain 
class of pupils, therefore, we should aim to bring out 
the teachings in very bold outlines, and with very deci- 
sive applications. On the zvhole, the notes in the les- 
sons here have been worked out more especially for a 
thoughtful, serious class of young people; but they 
can readily be varied and adapted to any conditions if 
the teacher will use proper discretion. 

It is to be borne in mind that a great deal must de- 
pend at the start in having the class members inter- 
ested in the discussions. For this reason, the success 
of the teacher will often be determined according to 
the way he opens the lesson, or to the points he under- 
takes to develop -first. It is very much like playing at 
a game. Where one has the first move, the whole result 
may depend on the opening play. How to introduce 
the discussion, therefore, will be an important prob- 
lem to any teacher who is dealing with the subject of 
ethics or religion. It will vary according to his knolw- 
edge of the members of the class, what they are think- 
ing about, in what way their minds are called most 
quickly into activity, or what leads them soonest into 
conversation or discussion. The main point here is to 
study variety. 

It is very important that in such a course of instruc- 
tion the teacher should always have a small black- 
board at hand. Where there is a leading point which 
can be put down in a few words, these words should 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 1 5 

be written out to stand before the eyes of the pupils. 
It is a valuable method of emphasis. The class mem- 
bers themselves could do the writing. Furthermore, 
it is often of significance to give young people single 
catch-words or phrases, which should act like pegs on 
which the discussion may hang, and so help to fix the 
thought in their minds for the future. 

The teacher is warned not to rely solely upon the 
text book. Let it be again repeated that the text book 
is but a suggestive outline which may be amplified and 
extended by the resourceful teacher. Lead children to 
think and discuss all phases of each subject. The class 
members should enter into the discussion as a con- 
versation. The points should come up as of them- 
selves, suggested by the talk going on. All the zvfoile 
the teacher should foe aiming to draw what he has to 
impress upon the children, from their observations or 
experience. The most that he should* have with him 
would be a few notes for his own guidance, on a single 
slip of paper, and it were better if even this were left 
behind. 

It is to be kept carefully in mind by the parent or 
the teacher, that in ethical or religious instruction the 
method or purpose is different from what it would be 
in teaching reading, writing or arithmetic. Our aim is 
rather to influence the moods and temperament, the 
feelings or character of the young people, and not to 
give them instruction in facts. We have not failed in our 
purpose if they forget much of what has been told to 
them, provided we have left a certain impression on 
their minds. We desire to give a certain direction to 
their sentiments rather than to instil a series of ab- 
stract principles. In this line of work, memory is not 
nearly as important as it might be in other departments 
of instruction. The pupils may forget the points we 
have made, and yet retain a certain impression from 
it all as an influence lasting to the end of their lives. 
The ultimate effect, for the most part, can only show 
itself in future years; it may not be visible or obvious 
to the teacher at the time. 



1 6 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

It will be apparent that in this whole scheme of in- 
struction, we have sought to be strictly undenomina- 
tional on the religious side. It has been the effort of 
the author to arrange the discussions so that they 
could be used in a Grammar School, where doctrinal 
teachings are excluded, or in the Sunday-school where 
these would be introduced as a matter of course. The 
plan has been to arrange the material so that the points 
of religious doctrine could simply be added on wher- 
ever desired, or omitted, according to the system or 
method of the school where this course of instruction 
might be employed. 

The teacher who is giving lessons strictly in ethics, 
however, should be cautious about being too dog- 
matic. If we argue with the members of the class too 
far, where they disagree with us, we may only lead 
them to be all the more positive in their opinions. It 
would almost seem as if in ethics or religion, young 
people like to be contrary. We may often allow them 
to oppose us on minor points, with the hope of fixing 
rigidly on their minds the one or twd leading princi- 
ples, which strike us as of the most importance. Our 
method is not to be that of casuistry; we are not to let 
the young people feel that we are scheming to convince 
them in spite of themselves. We are simply trying, as 
far as possible, to have them see with their own eyes 
the truths of the lessons in ethics, which have been found 
out from thousands of years of experience on the part 
of the human race. At the same time there are occa- 
sions when the adult should be very positive with 
regard to his own convictions, even where the class 
members will not agree with him. This especially ap- 
plies on points where the young people could not have 
had sufficient experience to form a judgment of their 
own. But even here the most that we may be able to 
do would be to say earnestly and solemnly, "I think in 
this way," and there let the matter rest. 

There is a further danger to be considered in the 
fact that young people by this method of discussion 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 17 

may be encouraged to watch and judge other people 
rather than themselves. It is a point that certainly 
must alzvays be kept in mind by the. teacher. At the 
same time we may not overlook the fact that this is the 
usual method by which conscience develops. The 
first judgments are liable to be with regard to others. 
The art of the teacher must be to recognize this fact, 
and then after the young people pass judgment on 
others, to encourage them, to turn their eyes inward 
and to measure themselves by the same ideal stand- 
ards. 

In a practical way, the teacher is advised to be cau- 
tious when using this method of ethical instruction, 
lest he employ certain words too much and nuike them 
tiresome to the young people. There are terms which 
should be introduced only seldom so that they may 
have an exceptional significance on the minds of the 
young. On the other hand the adult may simply ir- 
ritate the mind of the pupil by a repeated use of the 
same term. This would especially apply in the series 
of lessons before us, to the word "Habit." The 
teacher will, therefore, be driven to Und substitutes for 
it, although he must use it a great deal in all the dis- 
cussions. 

It may seem to many persons, in this special series 
of lessons, as if we had been somewhat limited in our 
choice of subjects. No two persons would probably 
choose the same list of habits for treatment. But it is 
\to be remembered that these lessons form only an 
introduction. We assume that any teacher who has 
undertaken to follow out the method oulined in these 
chapters, and made a success of it, would easily be able 
to go on and work out future dialogues for himself. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE MEANING OF HABIT. 
Proverbs or Verses. 

"Habits if not resisted soon become necessities." — St. Aug- 
ustine. 

"Habit is second nature! Habit is ten times nature." — 
Wellington. 

"Small habits well pursued betimes, 
May reach the dignity of crimes." — Hannah Moore. 

"Ill habits gather by unseen degrees, 
As brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas." 

"How use doth breed a habit in a man!" — Shakespeare. 

"Unless above himself he can erect himself, how poor a 
thing is man." — Daniel. 

"Habit in sinning takes away the sense of sin." 

"It is a thousand times easier to contract a new habit than 
to get rid of an old one." 

"Custom does often reason overrule, 
And only serves for reason to a fool. — Rochester. 

"Custom makes all things easy." 

"Tyrant Custom makes a slave of reason." 

"Use can almost change the stamp of nature." — Shakes- 
peare. 

Dialogue. 

What do we mean by habit? I suppose you know 
what habits are? Will you give me some idea of what 
the word suggests to you? "Why," you say, "it is 
doing something over and over again without thinking 
about it, just as if it were second nature." 

Yes, that is all very true. But sometimes we do the 
same thing over and over again, and yet we may not 
call it a habit. 

Did you ever watch a chicken just after it had come 
out of the shell ? Did you notice that it pecks at some- 
thing, as if it had done that a great many times? Yet, 
had the chicken ever done that before? "No," you 

18 



A STUDY OF HABITS. I9 

admit, "that would have been impossible, because it 
had just come out of the shell." 

Then, was it a habit? If not, what is it that makes 
the chicken do that? "Oh," you assert, "the chicken 
acts in that way by instinct." 

So then, it is instinct, you tell me. That is a new 
word. And what is the difference between instinct 
and habit? This is quite an important distinction. 
Be careful now in your answer. "Instinct," you ex- 
plain, "is something that is born in a creature. It be- 
gins without the use of the mind." Yes, you are right. 
It is a sort of gift at the start. 

Name over some of the instincts, for example. What 
about the birds ? Do you fancy, for instance, that if a 
little bird had never seen a nest made, it would go 
ahead nevertheless, when it grew up, and make a nesi 
all of its own ? 

What do you think? "Oh, yes," you answer, "we 
are sure the bird would go ahead and make a nest just 
the same." I presume you are right. "Nest-mak- 
ing," then, is one of the beautiful instincts. 

What about human beings ? Do they have instincts ? 
Is there anything that we do as something which is 
born in us, just as the chick pecks, or the bird goes 
about nest-making? "You doubt it," do you? "We 
act by reason and not by instinct," you insist. 

Do not be too positive about that. Do you suppose 
that if a human creature had never been taught to eat, 
he would not put food in his mouth? I am quite cer- 
tain he would, even if it had never been taught to him 
at all. 

If a grain of dust falls against the eye, would you 
not wink, even if you had never learned how to do it ? 
[ am sure that the eye-lid would close all the same. 
Yes, we have instincts, just as the animals do. 

And now another question. Which really have the 
greater number of instincts — the animal world or 
human beings? "Oh," you reply, "human beings would 
have more instincts, if they have instincts at all." 

And why? I ask. "Because," you assert, "we are 



20 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

superior in every way, and so should have more of 
those gifts than the animals." 

"Wait a moment now. How was it you said a crea- 
ture acts, when guided by instinct? "Without rea- 
son?" Yes, without using his mind. Then are you 
sure that human beings, because they are superior, 
would have more instincts and act oftener without rea- 
son? No, it is really the other way. There are more 
instincts among the animals and fewer among human 
beings. 

Can you see why? "It may be," you add, "because 
we exercise reason more than the animals do." 
Yes, that is it. Hence we have less need for instincts, 
inasmuch as we can make more use of our minds. 

And now as to habits. If they are not born in us 
like instincts, where do they come from? Do they 
just happen? Do they come like second teeth? Do 
they drop down on us from the skies? "Oh no," you 
assure me, "because if they came that way, they would 
be a kind of instinct." Yes, you are right. 

Where, then, do our habits come from? "Why," 
you point out, "we get them ourselves or we make 
them for ourselves." Do you really mean that? If 
you do, stop and reflect how important it is. 

Appreciate what it signifies, that we form our own 
habits. Then what if we have bad habits; who is to 
blame for it? "We, ourselves," you confess. Yes, I 
suspect we are, if we form them ourselves. 

Suppose we talk a little more now about the different 
kinds of habits. Then we shall be able to discuss this 
question in a more positive way. Mention some of 
the habits we may form. 

Begin with the body. Did you ever see a girl throw 
a stone? Does she always throw it the same way that 
a boy does ? You are smiling at that, I notice. Well 
now, why not? How does it happen that boys may 
throw stones in one way with their arms, and girls 
another? Although of course in this matter there is 
great difference in girls. 

Or suppose that a boy and girl are throwing a ball. 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 21 

Would they usually toss it in the same way? "No." 
And why not ? Could not a girl learn how to throw a 
ball as well as a boy? I am strongly inclined to be- 
lieve it. What is the difference? 

"True," you continue, "but boys play ball a great 
deal and use their arms in throwing more, and so have 
a different habit of using the arm in throwing." Yes, 
and there comes in the word "habit." Did the boy 
definitely think just how to get his arm into a certain 
habit, so that it wouM throw the ball in a certain way ? 
"No, it was not quite like that," you say. "He just 
kept on throwing the ball until the arm did it in a 
certain manner that came naturally." 

Then what was it, that the boy really, consciously 
got, and what was it that came unconsciously ? Would 
he ever have learned to throw a ball well, if he had not 
thought carefully how to do it? "No," you reply. 

Do you assume, then, that he knew what he was do- 
ing in acquiring the habit of throwing the ball well, 
while the habit of moving the arm in a certain manner, 
came partly without his knowing it? 

Please note that point very carefully, for it is very 
important. Some of our habits we form while we are 
thinking about it, or purposely trying to form those 
habits, and other habits are formed accidentally, as it 
were, while we are not conscious of it. 

Can you name, for instance, some habits that are 
formed so early in life, that we know very little about 
how they started? 

Suppose you saw two persons with almost the same 
figure, walking in front of you along the street; per- 
haps they may be dressed just alike and look almost 
exactly like each other from behind. Would you know 
them apart? "Yes, you think you would." But how? 
In what way? "Oh," you tell me, "by their walk." 

Yes, and how did they ever get that walk ? Did they 
learn it consciously ? Why is it that each person walks 
in a peculiar way, so that you can recognize him by 
this means. "As to that," you answer, "it is a kind of 
habit which he acquired while he was very young." 



22 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

Yes, I agree with you. And so you notice that there 
are some habits that we get very early in life. How 
we form them will depend a little on what others teach 
us. 

Let me suggest to you another habit peculiar to each 
person. What if I had some money in a bank, and 
sent an order there for them to pay it to somebody 
else. Would the bank do it? "Yes," you reply, "if 
they were sure that they knew the other person, and if 
they were also sure the order came from you." 

And how would they know the order came from me ? 
Why could not somebody else write such an order in 
my place? "Yes," you exclaim, "but there would be 
the handwriting!" 

Do you imply that each person has his own hand- 
writing, a little unlike every other person's? "Yes," 
you insist, "each person has his own handwriting, and 
that is how the bank can know that the order came 
from the person who signed it." 

Then what is that handwriting — a habit? True, it 
has been a habit we formed when quite young. Were 
we fully conscious when we were acquiring that habit ? 
"No, not altogether," you say. Evidently it belongs 
to those habits which depend a little on how we were 
taught. Suppose we call these the indirectly acquired 
habits. 

On the other hand, name over some of the habits 
of the body we acquire while we know that we are 
forming them. Did you ever watch two persons pass- 
ing along, one of them holding his shoulders straight 
and his head erect, and the other slouching in an awk- 
ward sort of a way, his shoulders bent over and his 
head at a curious angle? 

Did the habit of carrying himself with straight 
shoulders and head ertect in a manly sort of way, come 
to one of those persons unconsciously, without his 
knowing it? 

No, I can assure you that was a habit which the 
person had to learn; he had to be thinking about it a 
great deal and watching himself all the while. 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 



23 



But now when he carries himself in that way, do you 
suppose he thinks about it? "No," you admit. Well, 
why not ? "Because," you answer, "it has now become 
a habit with him, and he does it without thinking." 

How do such habits differ from those indirectly 
acquired? "We knozv we are getting them," you ex- 
plain. Yes. We will call them directly acquired 
habits. 

Note to the teacher: At this point, if desired, one could 
make a great deal of army discipline; telling how soldiers are 
trained; describing how many years men have to serve in the 
army over in Europe, in order to acquire the military habits, 
and why soldiers have to keep on doing the same thing over 
and over again in order to form those habits. The subject of 
military drill may splendidly illustrate the conscious acquisi- 
tion of habits of the body, altho this will come in again in 
one of the later lessons. 

Speaking about the indirectly acquired habits, you 
say that we know when we are forming the other 
kind, but are not usually conscious in the same way 
with these. Then do you assume that one may not be 
to blame for having any kind of indirectly acquired 
habits ? "No," you insist, "one cannot be to blame in 
this case because one is not directly aware of what is 
going on." 

Yes, it would seem as if you were right. But stop 
a moment. Perhaps what you say is true about those 
indirectly acquired habits we form when we are very 
young. 

But there are others of this kind which we may be 
on the lookout for. Suppose a person falls into the 
habit of always hitting against things when he is mov- 
ing about the house. Was he aware that he was form- 
ing this habit ? "Not altogether," you answer. 

But should he not have been on the lookout regard- 
ing it? Would you not blame him, after all, some- 
what, for having that sort of a habit? "Yes, we think 
we should," you admit. Why? I ask. "Oh, because 
if he had been watchful, he might have seen that he 
was falling into that sort of a habit." 

Then you would draw a line, would you not, be- 
tween those indirectly acquired habits which we form 



24 A STUDY OF HABITS, 

when we are too young to know anything about them, 
and those we form later on, which might also come of 
themselves, and yet which we might control if we were 
on the lookout. 

I wish you would remember that point, for it is 
very valuable. We may not always shirk the blame 
for a bad habit because we were not conscious of it 
when it was being formed. One should try to be con- 
scious of it. 

Points of the Lesson. 

Count over now, the points we have learned about habits in 
this talk together. 

In the first place, we described habit as "doing something 
we have done before, but doing it afterwards without think- 
ing." 

In the second place— about instincts, we have seen that in- 
stincts are inborn; but that habits are something we form or 
acquire for ourselves. 

In the third place, we noted that we have fewer instincts 
and more habits, than animals; because we use reason more 
than they do. 

In the fourth place, we have learned that some habits are 
for the most part acquired while we are not conscious of it at 
all. These we called "indirectly acquired habits," such as our 
walk or our handwriting. 

In the fifth place, we discovered that we have other habits 
which we acquired only through close and watchful attention. 
These we called "directly acquired habits." 

In the sixth place, we have seen that there are some of our 
indirectly acquired habits that we might control or avoid if 
we are on the lookout, although they seem to come partially of 
themselves. 

Poem. 

He liveth long who liveth well, 

All else is life but flung away; 
He liveth longest who can tell 

Of true things truly done each day. 

Be wise and use thy wisdom well, _ 

Who wisdom speaks, must live it too; 

He is the wisest who can tell 

How first he lived, then spake, the true. 

— HORATITTS BONAR. 

Further Suggestions to the Teacher — For il- 
lustration tell Huxley's story of the veteran 
who was walking with his plate of dinner when some- 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 25 

body called out "Attention," and the man dropped his 
plate and dinner and mechanically threw his hands to 
his side. It will be recognized that this and the fol- 
lowing lesson are merely introductory to the special 
discussions which are to come afterwards. The ma- 
terial can be amplified at discretion and the young 
people be encouraged to give anecdotes from their own 
experience. But there should be a pretty thorough 
understanding as to the meaning of habit and its dis- 
tinguishing characteristics before the special habits 
are considered. It will be observed that the proverbs 
or verses at the beginning apply to each of the two 
lessons indiscriminately. There might also be some 
treatment of the word "custom," raising the question 
how it is related to "habit" and to what extent it has 
an independent meaning. So, too, with the words 
"use" and "usage." Additional points for considera- 
tion will be sure to occur to every teacher as he goes 
on with the discussions and the class members begin 
to raise issues for themselves. 



CHAPTER II. 
A FUETHEE CONSIDEEATION OF HABIT. 

Proverbs or Verses. 

"Whatever you would make habitual, practise it; and if 
you would not make a thing habitual, do not practise it, but 
habituate yourself to something else." — Epictetus. 

"Powerful is the empire of habit." — Publius gyrus. 

"Old inbred habits will make instances, but by better habits 
they shall be entirely overcome." — Thomas a Kempis. 

"In the conduct of life habits count for more than maxims, 
because habit is a living maxim." — Amiel's Journal. 

"Our deeds pursue us from afar, 
And what we have been, makes us what we are. ' ' 

— John Fletcher. 
"He that sows thistles shall reap prickles." 
"They have sown the wind, they shall reap the whirlwind." — 
Bible. 

Dialogue. 

In our last talk together we dwelt more especially 
upon habits of the body. What about the other part of 
ourselves, that we call the mind? Do we have habits 
there, too, just as in the body? 

Could we fall into a way of thinking or feeling after 
a certain manner, or acting in the mind from certain 
motives, without being conscious that those motives 
are there ? You do not quite understand what I mean, 
I can see that by your look. But suppose we illus- 
trate. 

Can you suggest any habits of the mind ? Think for 
a moment about school life. I wonder if you have 
observed the difference between children at their books. 

Observe a boy or girl about ten or twelve years old. 
Have you ever noticed how some pupils keep their 
eyes steadily on their books for a long while at a time, 

26 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 2J 

working away without stopping for a moment ? Then 
have you noticed how others may be looking up every 
minute or two, watching what is going on around 
them, glancing at their books and then glancing off 
again ? 

What is the difference between these two classes of 
girls or boys? The same contrast is apparent when 
the teacher is addressing them? Have you detected 
how some boys and girls listen all the time; while 
others are looking out of the window every other min- 
ute or noticing what the other pupils are doing? What 
is the difference between the two ? What is it that the 
pupil is doing, who is listening to the teacher all the 
while ? 

"Why," you say, "he is paying attention." And 
what was he doing when keeping his eyes steadily on 
his book during the study time ? Again you say, "pay- 
ing attention to his work." 

How does it happen that he does this; keeping his 
eye on his book, or listening attentively to the teacher 
who maybe is speaking to the class? Does he do it 
naturally? Is it perfectly easy for him to study hard 
for an hour without thinking of anything else? Can 
you listen without effort to a teacher when he is talk- 
ing for a long while? 

"No," you admit, "not at first." Why not? I ask. 
"Oh," you tell me, "it is hard work. It comes natural 
to look around and watch what is going on." 

Then how is it that a certain pupil is able to pay 
attention for a long while in that way? "Why," you 
explain, "he got into the habit of it." But how did he 
get into the habit of it? 

You say that he tried to pay attention, and not let 
his mind turn aside and think of something else, or 
watch what was going on ; that after he had done this 
a long while, however, it came easier ? But why ? I in- 
sist. "Oh," you reply, "because it has become a habit." 

And here we meet with a habit of the mind, do we? 
And what do you call it? "The habit of attention?" 
Yes, and it is a very valuable habit. 



28 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

Have you ever thought about habits of the feelings ? 
I wonder if you have ever seen persons who are dis- 
agreeable; boys or girls who may be "cross" or "snap- 
pish," as we say — I mean those who are that way very 
often ? 

One can tell by the look on your faces that you 
have known such people. What makes them act in 
such a way, do you suppose? When they suddenly 
"snap" or say anything mean or disagreeable, what 
starts it, what is going on inside of them? "Why," 
you assure me, "a mean or bad feeling has been 
aroused, and that leads them to say something mean 
or disagreeable." 

And do they always know that there is such a mean 
feeling in their hearts, when they suddenly make such 
disagreeable remarks? "You believe they are aware 
of it?" I am not so sure about that. 

However, it depends. What if a person had said 
mean things of that kind a great many times, and been 
disagreeable very often. And then fancy another indi- 
vidual who had not usually done anything of that kind, 
suddenly becoming guilty of it for the first time. 

Which one would be more conscious of the bad feel- 
ing that started it? "Why," you assert, "the person 
who did it for the first time." Yes, you are right. 

I assure you that we can have habits of the feelings, 
just as of the intellect . We may fall into the habit of 
having bad feelings start up on all sorts of occasions 
when we are hardly conscious of it, leading us to say 
mean or bad things that we ought to be ashamed of. 

I wonder if you have ever heard of jealousy? We 
will not talk about that special subject now ; but it, too, 
can be a habit of feeling. People may fall into the 
habit of jealousy who at first rarely ever showed any 
disposition of that kind. 

But what about the control of habits? Have you 
considered that point? When is the easiest time to 
break off a habit — when it has become fully formed, 
for instance? "No," you assert, "that is just when it 
is hardest to break off." 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 2Q 

Then you assure me that the longer we are under 
the influence of a habit, the more difficulty we shall 
find in changing it, if we desire to do so? "Surely," 
you answer. 

I am afraid that is true. Habits of long standing 
are very much like tight gloves. Did you ever watch 
a person trying to take off a very tight glove ? It comes 
hard, does it not ? I wonder if you ever tried to take 
off a wet under garment, that fits close to you? 

You may never have fallen into the water and had 
that experience. But I can assure you the garment 
comes off with the greatest kind of difficulty. A long- 
established habit is very much like a wet, close-fitting 
garment. It is no easy matter to get off. 

On the other hand, suppose we want to acquire a 
good habit ? What is the easiest time of life for acquir- 
ing it? Why is it, for example, that a grown person 
who has never learned to play a piano, finds it hard to 
play, and really never learns to do it well? "Oh," you 
answer, "his fingers are stiff." Yes, surely. And when 
are the fingers less stiff for such a purpose? "When 
we are quite young," you say. 

Very few persons, I can tell you, ever acquire strong, 
fixed, valuable habits after they are grown up. The 
boy or girl who does not form a habit of attention when 
he is young, will probably never have it at all. 

By the way, what are habits good for? Would it 
not be better for us if we did not have them at all, but 
always used our reason when going to act or to do 
something ? 

Is it not a little weak on our part to be subject to 
habits? Would you not say that there was something 
"slavish" about it? We are not free, are we, if we do 
something in that way without thinking about it or 
being conscious of it? 

"True," you say, "one might prefer not to have 
habits, but to be free and always use one's reason." 
Then you are inclined to think that habits are really 
not good for anything? 

If that is what you mean, suppose that every time 



30 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

you throw a ball, you had to stop and think how to 
fix your arm, in order to throw it. Would you like 
that? "Oh, no/' you admit. 

But why not? Would you not be more free then? 
"Yes," you continue, "but if we had to stop and think 
about how to fix the arm every time, it would be pretty 
slow work/' 

You are not quite sure, then, about your desire to 
be free of all habits ? It may, after all, be worth while 
to have some of them, at any rate. But what for? 
What service do they render? "Why," you explain, 
"they make the body do something of itself, so that one 
can attend to something else." 

How about the mind and habits of the mind? When 
you are at work with your studies, would you feel 
more free and be more satisfied if you had to think 
all the time about being attentive, or would you prefer 
to be attentive without being obliged to think about it ? 

After all, we should be glad to have certain habits 
of the mind, and not always be obliged to stop and 
act by reason. What do these habits of the mind, if 
they are good habits, do for us, then? 

"Why," you assure me, "they help the mind to act 
for itself in some matters, so that we can have more 
time to attend to other matters." 

Do you see any resemblance, then, between habits 
and machinery? Can you observe how it is that they 
may do for us with our bodies and minds, what ma- 
chinery does in the outside world? What is the real 
purpose of machinery? "To save labor?" Yes, and in 
what way ? "Oh," you respond, "so that men may be 
free to do something else that cannot be done with ma- 
chinery." 

And do you recognize how it is that habits serve the 
same purpose for the body and mind? If we form 
habits, they make our bodies or minds do certain things 
for us, so that we may proceed to do other things that 
cannot be done by means of habits. 

Speaking of habits of the mind, do you suppose this 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 3 1 

has anything to do with the character of our thoughts ? 
"We do not see how," you hesitate. 

But why is it that some people think more correctly 
than others? How is it that we may have to argue 
longer with one person than another in order to con- 
vince them of what is known to be true. "Oh, because 
they are prejudiced," you suggest. 

Yes, quite so. But if they let their prejudices in- 
fluence their opinions, may it not be that they are under 
the influence of habits of thinking ? Sometimes it would 
seem as if people actually had a habit of thinking crook- 
edly, as we should say. They let themselves be con- 
trolled altogether by their feelings in the way they use 
their minds. This surely is a habit. 

But if there are habits of the mind, as well as habits 
of the body, which do you think may be the more im- 
portant? "Habits of the mind, probably," you reply. 
And why? I ask. "Because," you add, "the mind is 
more important than the body." 

Yes, that is the reason. But perhaps there is another. 
Why is it easier for us to notice what is going on in 
the body, than what is going on in the mind? 

"Oh, because," you explain, "one can see the body 
or feel what is going on there. But the mind some- 
how seems to be back out of sight." Yes, you are 
right, and this is most important. We are often liable 
to overlook habits of the mind, while we may have a 
great deal to say about habits of the body. 

The mind has its way of working, just like the mus- 
cles or the fingers. If it is a good way, then it is very 
good ; but if it is a bad way, then it is very bad indeed, 
because it is very hard for us to get at it, inasmuch as 
we cannot quite see it or feel it, the way we can see or 
feel how one's fingers move or one's hands work. If 
the mind is the highest part of ourselves, then it is ex- 
ceedingly important that we should have the best 
Habits of Mind. 

Points of the Lesson. 

Name over, now, the further points we have discovered 
about habits. 



32 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

In the first place, we have seen that there are habits of the 
body, and habits of the mind and heart. 

In the second place, we have noticed that usually when a 
habit of the mind or heart is beginning, we are conscious of 
what is going on, but that after it has become fixed we are 
not conscious of it when we are influenced by it. 

In the third place, we have learned that habits are hardest 
to control after they have been long fixed or established. 

In the fourth place, we have found out that habits are 
more easily acquired when we are young. 

In the fifth place, we have discovered that certain habits 
mzy be of great service to us, because they aid our bodies and 
minds, just as machinery aids us in the outside world. 

Further Suggestions to the Teacher — A very 
good story to tell the children as again illustrating 
the power of habit, would be "The Soldier at the Gate 
of Pompeii." Give a little account of the destruction 
of Pompeii by the eruption of Vesuvius. Then tell 
how the people fled from the city, and how everything 
was buried many feet in the ashes. Describe how 
hundreds and hundreds of years later, when they 
came to dig the ashes away, they found the body of a 
Roman soldier lying at the gate of the city. Show 
how he had been placed there and stood there at his 
post because of the army discipline, which never al- 
lowed a man to leave the post assigned to him. Have 
a discussion as to whether any man who has never 
acquired very strong habits, or been under very severe 
discipline, could have done anything of this kind. 
Make it plain that it was the long years of military 
discipline that had developed the habit in the soldier 
of "staying at his post." Show how this was a habit 
pertaining both to the body and to the mind. See 
also Aesop's Fable about "The Camel." As regards 
the use of the terms "mind" and "body" it seems best 
to retain these distinctions which have become em- 
bedded in popular speech and which will always have 
their significance whatever may be the developments 
of the New Psychology. We must talk in the lan- 
guage to which children are accustomed and which 
the average person has adopted as expressive of his 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 33 

innermost convictions. Such words as "thought," 
"feeling," "will," "mind," "heart," "soul," can never 
have the accuracy of scientific terms and yet they are 
most valuable for practical teachings in ethics or re- 
ligion. 



CHAPTER III. 

PEESEVERANCE. 

Proverbs or Verses. 

i ( An oak is not felled with one blow. ' ' — Spanish. 
1 ' In time a mouse will gnaw through a cable. ' ' — German. 
"Troy was not taken in a day." 

"Many things which cannot be overcome when they are 
together, yield themselves up when taken little by little/' — 
Flutarch. 

"Many strokes, tho with a little axe, 
Hew down and fell the hardest-timbered oak." 

— Shakespeare. 
"Be the day weary, or be the day long, 
At length it ringeth to Even-song." 

— Ancient Couplet. 
"In every work he began, he did it with all his heart and 
prospered." — II". Chrcn. xxxi. 21. 

"Do not for one repulse, forego the purpose 
That you have resolved to effect." — Shakespeare. 
"I'll fight it out on this line, if it takes all summer." — 
17. S. Grant. 

' ' Great works are performed not by strength but by perse- 
verance. ' ' — Johnson. 

Dialogue. 

Suppose today we dwell on the habit of Persever- 
ance. We must think out what it implies, how one 
acquires such a habit and in what way it may be of 
service to us in our lives. 

If you heard someone speak of a boy or girl, and 
say"such a boy or girl is very persevering, "what would 
that suggest to you ? "Why," you answer, "it means 
not giving up." "Yes," I continue, "but not giving up 
what?" "Oh," you add, " not giving up if one does not 
succeed the first time." 

You say, then, that if a person did not succeed the 

34 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 35 

first time, and tried once more, you would describe him 
as a persevering individual?" "No, not exactly," you 
hesitate. "Why not?" I ask. 

"Trying just twice would not be enough," you reply, 
"almost anybody might try twice." "Then how many 
times would a man have to try, in order to be perse- 
vering? Three or four times, do you think?" "More 
than that." "Well, how many, then?" "Oh, lots of 
times," you insist. 

"What if a person, however, tried lots of times for 
one day, and did not succeed ; and then when the next 
day came, he did not try any more? Would that be 
persevering?" "Certainly not," you assert. "But he 
had tried lots of times," "Yes," you admit, "but that 
was only for one day." 

"You believe that being persevering implies 
trying lots of times for two days ?" You smile at that. 
"Then how many days do you mean?" "Oh, a long 
while," you tell me. 

"You assume, do you, that being persevering means 
trying a great many times and keeping it up a long 
while?" 

What is the phrase we often use in urging one to 
perseverance? Can you recall the motto or maxim 
with the word 'try' in it? It contains just three words. 
"Try, try again?'" Yes, those are the words. But 
you have said that the habit meant even more than 
that. It was "try, try again" for a long while. 

"But does perseverance apply to any sort of con- 
duct? What if a boy or girl who was trying to do 
something not so very difficult, and failed the first 
time, should try and then find it easy enough the sec- 
ond time. Would you say quite positively that such a 
boy or girl was persevering?" "You are not quite so 
sure about that ?" 

"Why not?" "Because," you tell me, "being perse- 
vering about easy things is one thing; being persever- 
ing about hard things is another." "Yes, I agree with 
you. Then you would imply, would you, that perse- 



36 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

verance means try, try again, about those things which 
do not come easy for us ? 

Suppose a boy who was fond of play and wanted to 
learn how to play a game well, as for instance baseball, 
should try very hard over and over again. But 
what if that same boy, when it came to work he had to 
do, his studies or what his father wanted him to do for 
improving himself, would not try and keep on trying. 
Would you say that boy was persevering? "Not 
necessarily ?" 

But why not? Did he not apply our maxim in his 
play ? Did he not keep on trying over and over again 
to learn the game? "Yes," you continue, "but that is 
not quite the same; that is play." 

You believe, do you, that to be persevering is to 
keep on trying in something that is difficult, and where 
the something is work rather than play. 

Do you think, by the way, that animals show perse- 
verance? What about dogs? "Indeed they do," 
you exclaim. In what way? "Why," you point out, 
"a dog keeps on trying until he gets the thing, if he is 
a good dog." 

Do you fancy, for instance, that with hunting dogs 
some will persist longer than others, before they give 
up trying to catch the game ? "Yes, you are quite sure 
of that." Then you are convinced that some dogs 
are more persevering than others. 

But how about dogs generally ? Are they persever- 
ing? Did you ever use the word "dogged?" Have you 
ever met the words, "a dogged person;" or did you 
ever hear anyone speak of a "dogged" way of doing 
things ? 

What does it mean ? What do you understand by a 
"dogged" kind of person? "Why," you tell me, "one 
who hangs on like a dog, and does not give up until 
he gets what he is after." 

That is perseverance, is it? Does it mean work; 
hard work? "Oh yes," you assert, "there is a great 
deal of hard work in it." 

Which class of persons are most likely to succeed in 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 37 

the world, do you think; the "dogged" ones, those who 
hang on, and persevere; or those who take life easy? 
"There is no doubt about that," you respond ; "success 
surely comes more often to the dogged people." 

But is "being dogged'* just the same as being indus- 
trious — working hard? If you knew a person who is 
always busy, constantly doing something, never idle 
for a moment, would you say that such a person was 
necessarily persevering? 

"Yes," you answer, "it would seem so, at any rate." 
Why ? I ask. "Because he would always be busy," you 
explain. 

But what if he should be busy at a great many 
things; what if he is always at work, but trying this, 
that and another thing, and never keeping very long 
at one piece of work? Would you call that "being 
dogged?" Would that be perseverance? "No," you 
confess, "after all, being busy all the time does not al- 
ways mean the same as perseverance." 

What is the difference, then ? "Why," you point out, 
"this habit implies trying persistently at one thing/' 

Do you fancy the time may ever come when we need 
not try and persevere any longer? Could it become 
such a fixed habit that we might show it in everything 
we do? "Yes," you say, "in time it might perhaps 
become a permanent habit, so that it would seem easy 
for us always to persevere." 

I am not so sure that I agree with you, but we will 
speak about that later. Let me, however, ask you a 
further question. 

When you know of a persevering person, one who 
goes on trying continually over and over again, and 
not giving up, always holding on ; do you admire him ? 
"Yes, indeed," you exclaim. 

But what if a person would never give up in an ar- 
gument, always insisting he was right, even when it 
had been proven beyond any doubt that he was wrong? 
That implies "not giving up," does it not? And is it 
a course you would admire? "Oh, no," you assert, 
"that is not perseverance." 



38 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

Well, if not, I should like to know what it is. It 
certainly suggests hanging on, being determined, not 
being willing to give up. 

"True," you tell me, "but that is stubbornness." And 
you think that stubbornness and perseverance are not 
the same characteristic. How is it that a person can 
be persevering and yet sometimes be willing to give 
up? 

Is not a stubborn person very persistent? Does he 
not hang on? "Yes," you add, "but he hangs on when 
there is no use in doing so, when there is nothing to 
be accomplished by hanging on." 

You imply, then, that hanging on when it is of no 
use, is not perseverance, but stubbornness? Perhaps 
you are right. 

Points of the Lesson. 

I. That perseverance means, not giving up, but keeping 
on trying many times or for a long, while. 

II. That perseverance means to keep on trying, especially 
in experiences which come very hard for us. 

III. That animals may show perseverance, but not of our 
kind, because wanting in a conscious purpose. 

IV. That perseverance does not mean simply being busy, 
but being busy at some one thing. 

V. That perseverance is not the same thing as stubborn- 
ness or mulishness and should be kept distant from this lat- 
ter characteristic. 

Duties. 

/. We ought to keep on trying; we ought to perse- 
vere. 

II. We ought to try all the harder when we are the 
most discouraged. 

III. We ought to try the hardest and keep on trying 
the longest when the work is the hardest and the long- 
est. 

IV. We ought to keep on trying at one thing, instead 
of trying at too many things at the same time. 

V. We ought to persevere, but not to be stubborn; 
to be firm, but not to be obstinate. We ought to try 
and acquire the persevering character. 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 39 

Poem. 
Over and over again, 

No matter which way I turn, 
I always find in the book of life 

Some lesson I have to learn. 
I must take my turn at the mill; 

I must grind out the golden grain; 
I must work at my task with a resolute will, 

Over and over again. 

We cannot measure the need 

Of even the tiniest flower. 
Nor check the flow of the golden sands 

That run through a single hour. 
But the morning dews must fall ; 

And the sun and the summer rain 
Must do their part, and perform it all 

Over and over again. 

Over and over again 

The brook through the meadow flows; 
And over and over again 

The ponderous mill-wheel goes; 
Once doing will not suffice, 

Though doing be not in vain; 
And a blessing, failing us once or twice, 

May come if we try again. 

The path that has once been trod 

Is never so rough to the feet ; 
And the lesson we once have learned 

Is never so hard to repeat. 

— Anonymous. 

Further Suggestions to Teacher.— It might be 
well to make a good deal of the contract between stub- 
bornness and perseverance, because grown people as 
well as children often confuse them. The term u mul- 
ishness" could be introduced, with some talk about the 
peculiarities of the mule, and a disposition to "back." 
The story could be told of the man who played a trick 
on a mule; turned him around with his head toward 
the wagon, and so by pulling at his head made him 
back several miles and draw the wagon without know- 
ing it. Show the children how people, especially in 
judging themselves, will call their own standpoint 
"firmness," while in the case of other people they 



40 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

would call it "obstinacy." For a story there is the 
familiar one about "Robert Bruce and the Spider," 
and also the well-known tale about the "Hare and the 
Tortoise" in Aesop's Fables. 



CHAPTER IV. 

BEING CONCEITED. 
Proverbs or Verses. 

"Conceit may puff a man up, but it never props him up."— 
Buskin. 

"There is more hope of a fool than of him who is wise in 
his own conceit." — Bible. 

"The gosling would lead the geese to grass.'-'— French. 

"Self-exaltation is the fool's paradise." 

"All is sugar to the vain, even the praise of fools." 

"Every man has just so much vanity as he wants under- 
standing. ' ' — Pope. 

"Everyone thinks he has more than his share of brains." — 
Italian. 

"No man sympathizes with the sorrows of vanity." — Dr. 
Johnson. 

"She that looks too much at herself, looks too little to her- 
self." 

Dialogue. 

You have heard about certain people ''being con- 
ceited?" What would it indicate to you if it were 
said of anybody ? 

What is the chief characteristic of such persons? 
"They talk about themselves," you say. Yes, but how 
much? "Oh," you assert, "a good deal." Then you 
think that being conceited would mean talking about 
one's self a good deal ? 

But suppose a person should keep saying how much 
he wished he was able to do something, or kept lament- 
ing because he was not strong enough to do it ; what 
if he went on repeatedly saying how much better some 
one else could do a certain thing, than himself? That 
would be talking a great deal about one's self, 
would it not? Would it necessarily suggest self-con- 
ceit? 

41 



42 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

"No, not exactly/' you answer ; "self-conceit implies 
talking about one's self in a bragging sort of a way." 
But what do you mean by bragging? 

"Telling how smart we are, or how much we can 
do," you reply. But is that all there is to such a habit? 
What if one were to assert how much one could do, 
but at the same time to admit that some one else 
could do it a great deal better, would that be bragging? 
"Not quite the same," you confess. 

What would be the difference? "Why," you point 
out, "bragging would mean trying to show how much 
smarter we are than other people, boasting about our- 
selves as being superior to others." 

And that is what you have in mind by being con- 
ceited, is it, always talking about one's self as being 
"smarter" than other people, or better than they are? 
And you call that "bragging?" 

You assume, do you, that a person who never talked 
about himself could not be conceited. Is that it? "No," 
you add, "for a person could have that trait even if he 
did not talk about himself." 

What would be going on in his mind if he were a 
conceited person and yet did not talk about himself? 
"Oh," you say, "he would all the while be thinking to 
himself how much smarter or better he was than other 
people." 

It is your opinion, is it, that merely thinking to one's 
self about one's superiority, would imply "being con- 
ceited?" I am afraid you are right. 

How do you fancy such a person would act, even if 
he did not talk to others about himself ? Would there 
be any way by which people might know we were con- 
ceited, if we were conceited in that way ? Could any- 
body find us out? "You doubt it?" But why? "Be- 
cause," you insist, "we should keep our thoughts to 
ourselves ; we should not tell of the feelings we have." 

Now do you believe you really could do that? 
Would it be possible for you to feel in that way and not 
show it by your conduct, even if you said nothing about 
it? 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 43 

Take, for instance, two boys or girls, one of them 
very conceited, and the other not so ; how would they 
act when trying to improve themselves? Which one 
would be going to others in search for information, or 
trying to learn from other people? Would it be the 
conceited one? 

"No," you admit, "quite the opposite." But why 
not? Would he not want to improve himself just the 
same? "On the contrary," you answer, "he would be 
thinking that he knew it already, fancying, perhaps, 
that he could not learn anything from anybody else." 
Have you ever met with boys or girls who act as if they 
knew more than their teachers Are they conceited, do 
you think ? "Yes, decidedly," you tell me. 

Then which class of persons are most likely to go on 
improving themselves, those who are very conceited 
and think they "know it already," or those who are 
rather doubtful about how much they know and there- 
fore try to learn from others? "You are convinced 
that the conceited boy or girl would not improve so 
much?" Yes, I agree with you. 

How do you fancy a conceited boy or girl would act 
in the way of helping others? If he felt that he knew 
more and was smarter than they were, he would try 
to help others, would he not, and make them as intelli- 
gent as himself, or persuade them that they were his 
equals ; would that not be his way ? "By no> manner 
of means !" you exclaim. 

You smile at that, I see; but what makes you so 
positive? Suppose we show ourselves conceited to 
other people, would they admire us for it? "No, they 
would dislike us," you tell me. 

But can you explain such a feeling? Why should 
others dislike us if we show self-conceit? "It would 
be," you point out, "because we should be showing 
that we had a feeling of contempt for them ; we should 
not be trying to help them when they needed our 
help." "We should be 'showing off' to them," you add. 

But why should people mind our trying to "show 
off," as you say? "Oh," you answer, "people who do 



44 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

that are tiresome." You think, do you, that we grow 
tired of people who are all the time talking about them- 
selves ? I fear that is true. 

And you believe, do you, that people may even 
show off without talking? That is what you implied 
when you asserted 'that a person might be conceited 
without constantly speaking of himself, was it? 

Do you mean to 9 say, for example, that a person who 
never talks of himself might constantly call attention 
to himself? "Yes," you insist.- How?I.ask. He does 
not cry out to everyone, "Look at me!" "Oh, yes/' you 
answer, "but he acts in that way." 

How could a man act that way, if he did not say 
anything? "Why," you tell me, "he might show it in 
the way he walks, how he holds his head, in the way- 
he smiles." 

By the way, do animals ever show self-conceit? "You 
are not quite sure?" But did you ever hear of crowing? 
What does it suggest? Do human beings crow? "In 
a sense," you admit. 

Where do we get that word "crowing?" Why do 
we say that even people may crow ? "Oh, " you tell me, 
"it is because they call attention to themselves just in 
the way a rooster does when it crows." Then you 
think, do you, that a rooster may be conceited? 

What other large bird do we often speak of as con- 
stantly calling attention to itself, or "strutting" around ? 
"The peacock?" 

Aiid how does the peacock show itself conceited? 
"Why," you explain, "it spreads out its feathers, and 
makes a great show of itself, acting as if it were ask- 
ing everybody to look at it." Do you fancy that we, 
as human beings, ever act like peacocks? 

Nov/ as to a proverb about self-conceit, one that is 
two or three thousand years old. Think what it means 
when I read it to you : 

"Seest thou a man wise in his own conceit? 
There is more hope of a fool than of him." 

What sense is there in that saying? What do you 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 45 

mean when you assert that there is no hope for a man 
wise in his own conceit, or that you could do more with 
a fool than with such a man ? Does it imply that the 
man has no hope for himself? "Oh no," you answer, "he 
has a great deal of hope for himself. He thinks he is 
going to do wonderful things. 5 ' Yes, that may be true. 

You assume, do you, that other people are hopeless 
about him? But why should we feel in that way? 
What did we say about the desire of the conceited 
man to improve himself ? Did you tell me that he was 
more or less liable to improve, than the man who is 
without this trait of character? "Less so?" Then, 
you see, do you, why there is little hope for a self-con- 
ceited man? He thinks he knows it all, and so will 
not improve. 

Already, therefore, two or three thousand years ago, 
people knew that even the most stupid person had 
more chance for improving than the conceited person. 
The trouble would be that such a person might also be 
stupid and not know it ; or even if he were "smart" 
at the beginning, the stupid men might pass ahead of 
him by gradually improving. Hence there is a great 
deal of wisdom in this old proverb. 

Points of the Lesson. 

I. That conceited people may talk a great deal about them* 
selves. 

II. That they may feel or he very conceited and yet not 
say it in words. 

III. That a conceited person can show it by the way he 
acts. 

IV. That a conceited person is not so liable to improve, 
because he feels that he knows already and will not try to 
learn from others. 

V. That a conceited person is not liable to be helpful to 
others, but rather contemptuous toward them. 

VI. That the conceited person resembles the rooster crow- 
ing, or the strutting peacock. 

Duties. 

/. We ought not to talk too much about ourselves. 
II. We ought not to think too much about ourselves. 



46 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

///. We ought not to be offensive to others by show- 
ing a sense of our importance. 

IV. We ought not to be vain, lest we stop improv- 
ing ourselves. 

V. We ought not to be conceited, lest we make 
people laugh at us or despise us. 

VI. We ought not to be vain, lest we deceive our- 
selves and lose our self-respect. 

Further Suggestions to the Teacher. — This 
lesson will naturally come with the ones on "Pride" 
and "Humility." Opinions may differ as to the shades 
of distinction to be drawn between these various vir- 
tues and vices. The teacher is certainly not confined 
to the constructions to be found in these special out- 
lines. The chief consideration will be to impress the 
fundamental thoughts or sentiments on the young 
mind, while the method may be left to the discre- 
tion of the adult. 



CHAPTER V. 

ORDER. 

Proverbs or Verses. 

"Order is heaven's first law." — Pope. 
"Set thine house in order." — Bible. 
"A stitch in time saves nine." 

"By entering all that is sold or bought, 
You'll escape much anxious afterthought." 
"Let all things be done decently and in order. ' ' — St. Paul. 

Dialogue. 

We have a short word to discuss today. It is only 
of two syllables, and so you can easily take it down 
and remember it. I will leave it for you to decide 
whether it is a good or bad habit. But will you first 
write it out? "Order." 

That is the word. And does it suggest a good or a 
bad habit ? "Oh, a good one," you exclaim ; "that much 
we know." 

But I am curious to find out whether you really un- 
derstand what it means. Have you ever seen the 
letter-carrier, when he comes to your door in the 
morning? What does he have in his hands? "Why," 
you answer, "a pile of letters and papers." 

And when he calls, does he stop and look all through 
the pile in order to find out what belongs to your 
home ? "Not by any means," you continue ; "he takes 
certain ones from the top and hands them to us." 

But how do those letters happen to be on top when- 
ever he arrives ? Is it magic or chance ? "No," you 
tell me, "there is no magic about it. He has fixed them 
in that way before he started out." 

But what do you mean by fixing them in that way? 
"Oh," you explain, "he has taken them and sorted them 

47 



48 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

according to the house numbers, arranging them in 
order." 

There is the word, now, "order." And so we have 
come upon this habit in the letter-carrier. But what 
good is there in such a method for his purposes ? Does 
it not take more, much more, time to sit down at the 
office and arrange all his letters according to a system 
before he starts out? Don't you think it is a waste of 
time? "No," you insist, "it is the other way. If he 
had to go through his package of letters at every door, 
it would take three times as long, and so it would re- 
quire much more work on his part, and also many more 
letter-carriers." 

Then what is the first thing which a habit of order 
does for us? What does it save? Money? Is that 
what I am thinking of ? 

"No," you point out, "it saves one's time." Yes, that 
is it exactly. Then put that point down. It is very 
important. "The habit of order saves time." 

Would you be able now to tell me what you mean 
by order? Can you describe it?- Qh," you answer, 
"it implies fixing things so that it is easy to find them 
when one wants them." How is it, for instance, in 
school life? Did you ever observe a boy or girl who 
was obliged constantly to fumble in his desk and be 
all the time looking and looking, in order to find any- 
thing he needed ? And what is the trouble with them ? 
•"They do not keep their things in order." 

But now, one other point. Suppose you had all your 
things fixed on your desk or in your room so that you 
could easily find them, that would be order, would it 
not? "Yes," you assert, "surely." 

I assume, then, that if you always threw your col- 
lars or other clothing on the floor in the corner of 
your bedroom, and could always find them there, you 
would call that order? You would certainly have no 
difficulty in laying your hands upon them when you 
needed them. 

What if you had a way of tossing your soiled 
clothes into a pile beside your table in your bedroom 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 49 

during the week, there would be no difficulty of know- 
ing where they were at any time. Would that be 
order ? 

"No," you hesitate, "we are not quite so sure about 
that." But why not ? You would have no embarrass- 
ment in being able to find your things, and that is what 
you said the habit of order implied. 

I wonder if you ever went into a person's room, 
or came in upon him suddenly there, and noticed how 
he began to hide things out of the way, pushing a pair 
of shoes under the sofa, picking up a soiled handker- 
chief and putting it in his pocket, or suddenly brush- 
ing off some dirt from his clothes, or trying to 
straighten out his table a little. 

Does that ever happen? "Yes," you admit, "every- 
body does that now and then." 

But was that not what we should describe as order ? 
What if his slippers were out in the middle of the 
room, or three or four shoes were lying around on 
the floor, or some clothes were hanging over a chain 
instead of being put away in the closet? He can al- 
ways find these objects; he knows just where they are. 
Why is that not an indication of order ? 

"Oh," you tell me, "it doesn't look right." Why so, 
I ask? "As to that," you continue, "the way he tries 
to hide things when we come into the room shows 
that he is ashamed. He feels that he is guilty, and 
that it is not the same thing as order." 

It strikes me, then, that we have learned something 
further about order. Apparently it does not always 
mean just having a thing where one is able to find it, 
but also having a proper place for a thing. Will you 
put it down : "Having a proper place for a thing." 

Now what does that really imply? Suppose that 
there are two or three of your collars lying on the floor 
and your shoes scattered around. Where do they 
actually belong? "Why," you assure me, "in the closet 
or in the drawers." Exactly. Then there is a proper 
place for these clothes, and order means having them 
in their proper place. 



50 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

Do you believe there are people, for example, who 
always look very neat in their dress, and very proper, 
with their hair always brushed, their hands clean, and 
their clothing just right, and yet who have private 
rooms where their things are scattered over the floor, 
with everything untidy, so that they would feel aw- 
fully ashamed if anybody suddenly came in and saw 
them there? I am afraid that a good many persons 
live in just that way. 

But I wonder if you can see how it affects one's 
moods having the habit of order. Do you think the 
person who has the habit will be more or less cheer- 
ful than the person who does not have it? "In that 
respect," you ask me, "why should it make any differ- 



ence 



Have you ever observed a person searching around 
everywhere for something he could not find, looking 
in his closet, in the drawers, on the table, everywhere? 
Is he cheerful and very happy just at that moment? 
Would you enjoy being with him just then? 

"No," you smile, "he would not be exactly in an 
agreeable mood." Well, what sort of a temper would 
he display, do you fancy? "Why," you confess, "he 
may be inclined to be cross, out of sorts, just then." 
Then how may the habit of having things out of order 
affect us, would you say ? "Make us cross and out of 
sorts?" Yes, surely. 

I think you will find it true that people who have no 
habit of system or order are liable to be constantly dis- 
agreeable and out of sorts. You would not like to live 
in the same room with them or in the same house all 
the time. They would always be looking around for 
their things and be in a "snappish" mood, I fear. 

But is there also such a thing as having order in the 
way we do our work, just as in the way we keep 
things in our room? Suppose I give you an illus- 
tration. Take two boys at school. What would be the 
method of the boy who was disorderly in his ways of 
working? 

"Why," you explain, "he would jump around from 
this book to that book, or from this studv to that studv. 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 5 1 

He would never have the same time each day for the 
same work he was going to do." 

And what would be the method of the boy who had 
order in his school work? "As to that," you answer, 
"he would have a regular time for each study or each 
book, and keep steadily at that study until he had fin- 
ished it. He would not be skipping around in all sorts 
of ways." 

And which boy or girl, do you suppose, could recite 
his lessons better, the boy who had the habit of order, 
or the boy who had the habit of disorder? "Oh," you 
exclaim, "of course the boy who had the habit of 
order." 

But why? How will the boy who does not have any 
such habit recite his lessons? Will he begin at the 
right point and go along connectedly? "No," you 
admit, "the chances are he will skip around in his 
recitation, just as he skips around in his way of doing 
his work." I am afraid you are right. 

What if a boy, when dressing himself in the morn- 
ing, had no regular way of putting on his clothes, some 
mornings putting them on one way, or in one order, 
and another time another way, and in another order? 
Would it make any difference in the long run? Do 
you think he would get his clothes on just the same? 
Why should it matter ? 

"Oh," you tell me, "it would encourage a habit of 
disorder. Then, too, sometimes he might forget cer- 
tain garments." You mean, do you, that such a boy 
might come down to the breakfast table without his 
tie or collar ? 

Is it possible that you have ever heard of a boy who 
forgot to brush his hair before he came down to break- 
fast? How could he overcome such mistakes? 
"Why, you assert, "that is plain enough. If he had a 
regular method of dressing himself, he would not for- 
get." Yes, that is certainly true. 

I wonder if you know of a word or phrase that we 
sometimes use about people who do not have habits of 
order. It is not a very nice term. But it describes 



52 A STUD\ r OF HABITS. 

those persons who come down to the breakfast table 
without their cravats on, and who forget their collars, 
or overlook brushing their hair, or leave their bedrooms 
in an untidy condition, with clothes lying around en 
chairs or on the floor, or have spots on their clothes, 
or soiled shoes. Suppose you write it down. There 
it is — "Being slovenly." It is anything but nice to be 
slovenly. 

Did you ever hear of a girl who always has hairpins 
lying around on the table, or shoes with buttons of! 
or only half buttoned? What would you call a habit 
of that kind? "Slovenliness?" Yes, that is just what 
it would be, slovenliness. 

Points of the Lesson. 

I. That order implies arranging things so that one can find 
them easily. 

II. That it means having a proper place for things and 
having them in that place. 

III. That it helps us to save time. 

IV. That it helps to keep us from being cross, or out of 
sorts, or disagreeable. 

V. That it means also having system in the way we work, 
so that in this way we can accomplish a great deal more. 

VI. That it keeps us from losing our self-respect. If we 
have the habit of order, we are not ashamed when persons 
come upon us suddenly. 

Poem. 

Work while you work, 

Play while you play; 
That is the way 

To be cheerful and gay. 

All that you do. 

Do with your might; 
Things done by halves 

Are never done right. 



One thing each time, 
And that done well, 

Is a very good rule. 
As many can tell. 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 53 

Moments are useless 

Trifled away; 
So work while you work, 

And play while you play. 

— *M. A. Stodart. 

Duties. 

/. We ought to do our work in such a way as not 
to waste time. 

II. We ought to have a suitable place for a thing 
and keep it there. 

III. We ought to have a method in the way we. 
work and keep to that method. 

IV. We ought to follow those methods by which 
we can accomplish the most work. 

V. IV hat ever we do we ought to do it with system 
and order. 

Further Suggestions to the Teacher. — The 
question may come up whether a person could not be 
too orderly, although this is not a usual danger among 
children. Yet there may be some value in dwelling 
upon it. People as they grow older and pass into 
middle life sometimes become positively "cranky" 
about having things exactly in the same place, so that 
it makes them unhappy if the place for the thing is 
changed, even where the change is really needed. The 
question could be raised whether an exaggerated habit 
of that kind is real order, or whether it is not becom- 
ing a slave to routine. Naturally this part of the sub- 
ject requires a great deal more caution in the way it is 
dealt with. It may rest with the option of the teacher 
whether to take it up or pass it over. Sometimes the 
children will raise the point themselves. There is the 
term "fussiness" or "being fussy" as applying to this 
phase of the subject. 



CHAPTER VI. 

CONSIDERATION FOR OTHERS. 

Proverbs or Verses. 

"It is a secret sympathy, 
The silver link, the solemn tie, 
Which heart to heart and mind to mind . 
In body and in soul can bind." 

—Sir Walter Scott. 
"Give unto me made lowly wise, 
The spirit of self-sacrifice." 

— Wordsworth. 
"A forced kindness deserves no thanks." 
"A word of kindness is better than a fat pie. " — Russian. 
"He merits no thanks that does a kindness for his own 
ends." 

"Kindness breaks no bones." — German. 
"Write injuries in dust, but kindnesses in marble." 
"Politeness is to do and say 
The kindest things in the kindest way." 
"One ought to remember kindnesses received, but forget 
those one has done." 

Dialogue. 

Have you ever been in a street car and seen an 
elderly lady enter when the car was full, and some 
one, perhaps a young lady or a young man, rise at 
once and give the older person a seat? "Yes, it does 
happen sometimes/' you say. 

And what do you call an act of that kind? "Why," 
you answer, "it is a form of generosity." True, but I 
think it is a great deal more. Can you suggest an- 
other name for it? The person in that case does not 
really divide what he has. He gives it up altogether 
in surrendering his seat. What is his motive? 

"Oh," you explain, "the person who has entered the 

54 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 55 

car is old, and finds it difficult to stand, and we owe 
consideration to old people." 

There is the term I have in mind — consideration for 
others. Yes, that is a beautiful habit, which I should 
like to talk about today. 

When you start to say something unpleasant to one 
who is listening to you, and stop, why do you hold 
back? "It may be," you explain, "because we do not 
like to seem disagreeable to others." 

But is that always the reason? Can it come from 
any other motive? "Yes," you add, "we may not wish 
to hurt their feelings." You think, then, do you, that 
we ought to stop and consider the feelings of others 
when we are speaking? 

And do you imply that when a person is away and 
not hearing you, it may be all right for you to say all 
the disagreeable things about him you please, because 
he cannot hear you? "No," you admit, "that, too, may 
not be right." 

But why not? They do not hear what you say. 
They may never know about it. You do not hurt their 
feelings. Why should you care? 

"True," you continue, "but we may do them an in- 
jury just the same." How, in what way? I ask. 
"Why," you answer, "it may cause other people to 
dislike them." 

What is this habit called, talking about others or 
saying mean things about them when they are not 
present? "Talking behind their backs," you suggest. 
Yes, but what one word is used to describe it? You 
have already mentioned half of it — something about 
"'backs." 

"Backbiting?" Yes, that is the term. And why is 
backbiting wrong? "Because it is an injury to another." 
But what should be the motive or habit on our part 
leading us to be cautious in that regard? We have 
named it already. "Consideration for others?" Yes, 
that is it, surely. 

Can you tell me further how we may show consid- 



56 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

eration for others? For example, what can we do 
for a person who comes into the house extremely tired ? 

"Oh, there are all sorts of things," you say. "We 
can try and relieve him for a while from anything else 
he may have to do in the house, make everything as 
comfortable for him as possible, give him all the chance 
to rest he needs." 

Again, suppose a number of persons are in conversa- 
tion together and there is a subject mentioned which 
is very painful to one of those present. What might 
you do in order to show consideration for him? "Try 
and turn the subject, leading off the conversation as 
quietly as possible in another direction?" 

But, best of all, what can you do when there is dan- 
ger of such a subject occurring? "Why," you point 
out, "we can be on the lookout not to mention it at 
all, so as not to give him pain." Yes, that is a very 
nice point, although people very often forget about it. 

But there is another way by which we can show 
such consideration for others. You know sometimes 
people have instincts which they cannot control. There 
are some things they are peculiarly afraid of, and the 
fear is of a kind they can never conquer. Certain per- 
sons, for example, have such an instinctive fear of 
some insects or of certain animals. 

Do you think we ought to regard such feelings? "It 
depends," you say. "Why should they not try to over- 
come such fears ?" 

Yes, I answer, but I am talking of those fears which 
are instinctive, and which cannot be conquered. "Well," 
you admit, "if there are such fears, it may be right 
for us to take them into consideration." 

There are persons who have an intense shrinking 
from dogs. They almost tremble or are made sick at 
seeing them. Now, do you think it would be right for 
a member of the home where that person lived, to have 
a dog in the house just for his own pleasure? 

"No," you confess, "out of consideration for the 
feelings or temperament of the other, we ought to 
make a sacrifice of our own pleasure." 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 57 

I wonder if you can think of the name we naturally 
give to the persons who are most considerate of 
others ? What should you say was the chief difference 
between the common man and the gentleman? 

Is it a matter of family? "Yes and no," you hesi- 
tate. You mean, do you, that even a person without 
any family connections could be instinctively a gentle- 
man? "We certainly think that is possible," you reply. 

But what if he had no special education, no training 
in manners. Is such" a person ever called a gentleman ? 

"Sometimes," you insist. And what leads people to 
apply that term especially to him ? "Oh," you explain, 
"it is because he is so gentle or delicate in his conduct 
with others." 

Then you really believe, do you, that this habit we 
are describing, consideration for others, is the first 
mark of a true gentleman? It means, does it, trying 
not to hurt other people's feelings, being considerate 
in what we say about them, or what we say to them, 
being of service to them in little ways ? 

But suppose such a person is gentle in this way to 
people he is fond of, or to members in his own home, 
showing true consideration for their feelings, but is re- 
gardless about people with whom he is only slightly 
acquainted. Is he a true gentleman? 

"No," you assert. Well, why not? He shows con- 
sideration for the feelings of others. "Yes," you add, 
"but he does not do it always — he makes distinctions." 
Then you really feel, do you, that One ought to show 
such conduct for others everywhere? 

By the way, when is it hardest to show consideration 
for others ? Have you ever thought of that ? "It may 
be," you tell me, "when we dislike the person we are 
showing a consideration for." Yes, it does come hard 
under such circumstances. You are right. It is much 
easier to do this for the people we like. 

But how is it, whether it be in the case of people we 
like or in the case of strangers ? When may it still be 
very difficult to be on the lookout to show such gentle 



$8 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

consideration? "Well," you say, "it comes that way 
sometimes when we are very tired." 

At any other times that you think of? How about 
those occasions when you are "cross" or "out of sorts ?" 
Does it come easy then? "No," you admit, "it may 
be hardest of all then." 

Have you ever been on a street car, or traveling, for 
instance, where the car is pretty full, and seen one 
person occupy space enough for two persons ? Was it 
right to do that? 

"Yes," you insist, "if nobody needed the seat." But 
what if some one enters, and there are a number of per- 
sons doing the same thing, which sort of a person 
usually moves up and relinquishes half the seat? 
"Why," you suggest, "it would be the person who 
shows consideration for others." 

But when are we the least inclined to do this, or 
when is it hardest for us to do? "Oh," you explain, "it 
is when we are tired." 

Yes, that is true, and we have to be on the lookout 
then. Sometimes just from being tired we can be 
very selfish and inconsiderate. Watch a street car and 
observe the kind of persons who never move or offer 
to divide their seat. See how easy it may be on such 
occasions to read people's characters. 

Again, suppose a car is full and two persons enter, 
one a very old lady, rather plainly dressed, and an- 
other a pretty young lady handsomely attired. Which 
one will probably he given a seat first ? "Oh," you ex- 
claim, "the pretty young lady." 

But now think of it. What would be the true way 
for a gentleman — to give his seat to the old lady or to 
the young woman? Which course would show the 
real consideration for others? "As to that," you ac- 
knowledge, "probably it would be to give the seat to 
the old lady." 

Then why do not people think more about such 
things? "Perhaps," you 'suggest, "it is because they 
have not cultivated this habit of consideration for 
others." 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 59 

But does this habit always make people popular? 
Do you fancy, in that instance, if a man gave his seat 
to the old lady, the young woman would like him and 
admire him for it? "It would depend on the young 
lady," you answer. 

For what persons, then, are we to show the most 
consideration, for those who are strong like ourselves, 
or for those who are weaker than we are? 

"Why," you say, "probably it should bet for those 
who are weaker than ourselves." What class of .per- 
sons do you mean by that? "It may be old people," 
you suggest. "It may be very young people. It may 
be persons who are lame or blind. It may be persons 
who have no way of defending themselves." 

But what of those who may ordinarily be just as 
young and strong as you are, but who may be ill, who 
may be suffering from pain? If there is any time in 
the wide world when we can show consideration for 
others it is when they are sick. But it is often then 
that it comes hardest, because we have to suppress 
ourselves in all sorts of ways. The true gentleman is 
able to do it, nevertheless. 

Points of the Lesson. 

I. That consideration for others has to do with small 
things as well as great, and may come even harder in the 
small things. 

II. That consideration for others may require severe effort 
on our part, in order to overcome selfish inclinations. 

III. That in consideration for others, the effort may have 
to be greater when it is for those we care for the least or for 
strangers or foreigners. 

IV. That consideration for others comes the hardest when 
we are tired or out of sorts, when we are nervous or in a state 
of discomfort. 

V. That consideration for others implies not simply a 
form of gratitude or politeness, but a feeling of human kind- 
ness and a desire not to hurt the feelings of others, with ef- 
forts, where possible, to add to their happiness. 

Duties. 

/. We ought to be considerate of the feelings of 
others and not give them pain by what we say to them 
if we can avoid it. 



6o 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 



II. We ought to be considerate of others and not say 
evil things about them if we can avoid it. 

III. We ought to be considerate of the feelings of 
others when they are sick or in trouble. 

IV. We ought to be considerate of the feelings of 
others who are not as strong as we are. 

V. We ought to be considerate of the feelings of 
others, because it is the act of a true lady or a true 
gentleman. 

VI. We ought to be considerate of the feelings of 
others by trying to cause as little pain or trouble to 
others as possible. 

Poem. 

Do you wish the world were better? Let we tell you what 

to do: 
Set a watch upon your actions, keep them always straight and 

true, 
Rid your mind of selfish motives, let your thoughts be clean 

and high j 
You can make a little Eden of the sphere you occupy. 

Do you wish the world were wiser: Well, suppose you make 

a start 
By accumulating wisdom in the scrapbook of your heart. 
Do not waste one page on folly; live to learn and learn to 

live, 
If you want to give men knowledge, you must get it ere you 

give. 

Do you wish the world were happy? Then remember day by 

day 
Just to scatter seeds of kindness as you pass along the way; 
For the pleasure of the many may be oft-times traced to one, 
As the hand that plants the acorn shelters armies from the 

sun. 

— From "Unity." 

Further Suggestions to the Teacher. — Natural- 
ly this is but a feeble introduction to one of the most 
important subjects in the whole domain of applied 
ethics. Yet it would be a mistake to carry the dis- 
cussion too far, lest the young people tire of it. At 
least one further lesson might, however, be devoted 
to it, taking up such additional points as may occur 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 6 1 

to the teacher or be adapted to the experience of the 
class members. In one way or another the same sub- 
ject must come up again and again in other forms in 
any scheme of ethical instruction. One's whole life is 
but a single prolonged lesson on this special topic, as it 
is borne in upon us in a thousand ways how much joy 
or pain we may give by the gentleness or callous rough- 
ness we display in dealing with the feelings of others. 
A teacher can surely illustrate this in a great variety of 
forms, although it should be done without too much 
preaching or moralizing. Something, at any rate, will 
be accomplished if the attention of the young mind is 
called to these points and one's thoughts are started 
in that direction, even if the suggestions are not put 
into practice until years afterwards. Observations of 
the violation of this habit are brought home to us every 
day of our lives. The adult can teach here from what 
he himself sees in the world around him. All that we 
have ventured to give in this outline is a few scattered 
hints capable of indefinite expansion. 



CHAPTER VII. 

BEING LAZY. 
Proverbs or Verses. 

"Laziness lias no advocate, but many friends." — German. 

1 1 Who is lazy in his youth must work in old age. ' ' — German. 

"Laziness travels so slowly that poverty soon overtakes 
iiirn. ' ' — Franklin. 

1 ' A lazy boy and a warm bed are difficult to part. ' ' — Danish. 

"As lazy as Ludlum's dog, that leaned his head against the 
wall to bark." 

"A lazy man eats his own brains." 

"An indolent man draws his breath but does not live."— 
Cicero. 

"Enjoyment stops where indolence begins." — PollocJc. 

li A young idler, an old beggar." — German. 

"An idler is a watch that wants both hands 
As useless when it goes as when it stands." 

"He that is busy is tempted but by one devil; he that is 
idle by a legion." 

"Idle folks have the least leisure. Idle people take the 
most pains." 

Dialogue. 

Now for a good, plain, practical subject! We shall 
speak today about a habit to which we may be all 
tempted at times. 

You may write it on the blackboard. Put down the 
words. First, "being." You see that means the "habit 
of," doesn't it? Now add the word "lazy." There it 
is : "Being lazy." 

Did you ever hear that word before? "Surely." 
Anybody ever call you lazy ? What do you say ? Can 
you remember? "Yes," some of you admit, "we have 
had that term applied to us." 

And did you ever call anybody else lazy? Did you 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 63 

ever say, "Oh, you lazy fellow, you lazy girl?" I sus- 
pect you have. People are more liable to talk about 
other people in this way than about themselves. 

But I must know what you had in mind when you 
called somebody by such language. What was the 
trouble with the boy or girl, for instance? "Oh," you 
suggest, "they would not do anything. They just sat 
still when we wanted them to help us about some- 
thing." 

You would say, would you, that anybody who was 
sitting still for a good while was lazy ? What if, how- 
ever, he had a book in his hand and were reading? 

"It would depend," you explain, "on what he was 
reading." And what do you mean by that? What 
sort of a book would he be reading if you felt he were 
lazy and would not come away from it ? "As to that," 
you tell me, "it would probably be a mere story or 
some pictures with nothing else there of consequence. 
He would be simply amusing himself." 

You mean to assert that anybody who sits still read- 
ing a light book and will not get up to work or to ren- 
der you a service when you ask him, is necessarily 
lazy ? What if he is very tired ? What if he has been 
working very hard? "No," you admit, "if he is very 
tired and has been working very hard, we should not 
call him lazy." 

Yet you say you are convinced that if he is not tired 
and might just as well get up and help us, but will 
not do it on account of his story, he is lazy, is he ? Now 
are you sure of that ? 

What if that boy or girl who was reading a story 
had some work on hand of importance to himself, then 
if it suddenly occurred to him and he jumped up and 
went about it and toiled at it with all his might, al- 
though he would not rise to please you or help you, 
could you say that he was lazy? "No, not exactly." 
What would he be, then — selfish? "Yes, certainly." 

You see, after all, a person might be very selfish and 
not be lazy. You must tell me what this habit really 



64 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

implies. Try it again. Practice now the habit of per- 
severance. 

"Why," you suggest, "perhaps it applies to some one 
who sits around doing nothing a great deal of the 
time; some one who seems not to use his body or his 
mind very much." 

How would you describe a lazy boy at school, for. 
example. In comparison with the other kind, how 
would he conduct himself? "Oh," you add, "he would 
be looking around a good deal of the time, watching the 
other boys and girls, or looking out of the window, 
seemingly waiting until school should close. 

And how would you describe a lazy boy or girl at 
play, when there was no school work, and you were 
out at games ? What would be the difference between 
such a boy and the other kind? "Why," you point 
out, "the lazy boy would sit around and not care for 
the games which required hard work. Or if he went 
into them he would play for a little while and then 
stop and say, 'It is too much work/ " 

You really believe, then, that a boy or girl could 
actually be lazy in their play? Did you ever hear any 
one in speaking of play, exclaim, "It is too much like 
work?" What is it, do you suppose, that a lazy per- 
son likes most of all ? What would give him the great- 
est pleasure, such as it is? "Doing nothing?" you an- 
swer. Yes, I suspect that is it. 

Did you ever hear of a person who said he would 
like to do nothing for ever and ever and ever ? When 
a person makes such a speech, would it necessarily 
indicate that he was lazy? "Oh yes," you assert. Wait 
now. Do not be too sure. What if a person has had 
to work very hard for a long while. Might he not, 
when he was very tired, make that remark just because 
he was tired? 

Think again. Some time after you have grown up 
and have to work to earn your living, what if you 
receive some sort of a position, two of you, and do 
your work through the day, both of you, perhaps, just 
alike, if it is not very hard. Now, at the end of the 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 65 

day, what would the lazy one do ? "Go home and eat 
his supper?" Yes, and after that what would he do? 
"Not much of anything," you answer. 

And how would you describe those persons who in 
their evenings wander around and do not do much of 
anything? "Loafers?" Yes, that is the term. Put 
that down. We have come upon another word for lazi- 
ness. 

And what would the other type of man do, if he was 
not too tired, at the end of the day, assuming he had 
his evenings free? "Why," you respond, "he would 
go to work at something." But he has done his day's 
labor, all he is paid to do. What more is left for him 
in the way of work? 

You add, "He can go on improving himself, study- 
ing." But his school life is over, is it not? You mean 
that to improve himself a man must go on educating 
himself after school is over, when he is grown up? 

You may seem a little puzzled over that. But I can 
promise you that when you are grown up you will 
realize that there is more need for study even than 
when you are boys and girls. The lazy person never 
studies. When his work is over his mind goes to sleep, 
while the other type of man keeps on trying in some 
way to improve himself. 

It may be said of a person, "He always seems busy 
at something. Just as soon as one kind of work stops 
he goes and finds another." And then of still other 
persons it is remarked, "They never seem to be busy 
at anything." We call them the loafers. 

Suppose two men are employed at the same kind of 
work during the day, of a comparatively easy kind, so 
that at times there is an opportunity for doing a little 
more than what they are paid for. Will the lazy man 
ever do it? "No," you exclaim, "never!" 

Do you think it is worth while ever to do any more 
than what you are paid for ? What do you say as to 
that? 

Note to the Teacher: Here is a good opportunity to talk 
for a while with the boys and girls about work; in order 
somehow to make them feel the value of doing even more 



66 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

than they are paid for. Start in their minds a sense of 
shame at the idea of working for mere pay and nothing more. 
Point out to them that they degrade and hurt themselves 
much more than they hurt their employer when they take 
that standpoint. The disadvantageous side from a business 
standpoint could be put to them; since they are far more 
liable to get on in the world and be advanced to better posi- 
tions by winning the respect of those who employ them. It 
is very important to arouse in the children's minds a sense 
of disgust for laziness, at the same time making them see 
that a man can be lazy, even when he works steadily, if he 
does all his work in a routine way. Bead over the further lesson 
on "Habits of Service," however, so as not to anticipate that 
subject too much. 

But you have not told me yet where laziness really 
starts from ; — in the body or in the mind, would you 
say? 

"Why," you answer, "probably in the body. Such 
people will not work. They like to sit around and do 
nothing." But, now, are you sure of that? Is it their 
bodies which are lazy? 

Do you suppose, for instance, that if a boy or girl 
had a lazy body which moved slowly, sleepily, he or 
she could help it, or could do anything about it to 
overcome it? "Yes," you insist, "there would be a 
way. They could determine to change. They could 
will to act differently." 

You are right. Laziness starts inside of ourselves, 
in the soul, and not in the body. It is a matter of 
will. When we speak of a lazy person, we mean a 
lazy soul, and not a lazy body. 

But do you think it comes natural for some persons 
to be rather lazy, and for other persons to be rather 
energetic? "Yes," you admit, "there is a great differ- 
ence in persons from the time they are born." 

I suspect that is true. It is a fact that it is easier for 
some persons to be energetic than for others. Some 
people are born with lazy minds. 

Does it ever happen that a boy or girl finds it very 
hard to get up in the mornings? And it is just as dif- 
ficult for one person as another, is it not ? "No," you 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 67 

assert, "some persons seem to find it easier than 
others." 

But what if it proved very hard ? If it came natural 
to you to be a little lazy about getting up in the morn- 
ing, or about going ahead to do anything, what would 
be the best way to conquer the habit, and overcome it ? 

If, for instance, you hear the bell ring or the clock 
strike when you are to get up, is it a good plan to lie 
for a little while, trying to arouse yourself? Do you 
fancy you can work yourself up to a pitch of effort in 
that way? 

"You doubt that?" Why? What would happen? 
"Oh," you add, "one would go to sleep again." Then 
what is to be done ? "Jump quick," you exclaim. Yes, 
that is the way. There are persons, for instance, who 
find it very hard to get up in the mornings, and so have 
an alarm clock right close to them, and they make a 
point of being out of bed before the alarm has stopped 
sounding. On the other hand if they wait two or 
three seconds too long, until the alarm has ended, they 
may turn over again and go to sleep for another hour. 

What, then, is the best way to conquer laziness? 
Suppose you write the words down: "Jump quick." 
The lazy man who stops to think is lost. 

I wonder if you have ever heard a short proverb 
about laziness, just six words ; something about tak- 
ing the most pains? Can you recall it? 

"Lazy people take the most pains?" Yes. And do 
you see any sense in that sort of a proverb? Did 
you not say that a lazy man likes, more than any- 
thing else, just doing nothing? 

Apply it to the person who wants to get up in the 
morning at a certain time. Which is easier, after all — 
to jump quickly or to lie thinking about it for half an 
hour trying to coax one's self to the point of getting 
up? Is it not true that in this latter way a person 
takes the most pains? Will you suggest other ex- 
amples ? 



68 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

Points of the Lesson. 

I. That the lazy person never does any more work than 
he has to do. 

II. That the lazy person is a loafer and does not try to 
improve himself. 

III. That the lazy person is lazy in his mind. He is a 
lazy soul. 

IV. That the lazy person never acts promptly. He is a 
shirker. 

V. That the lazy person is a selfish person and is of no 
service to the world. 

VI. That the lazy person never conquers his lazy habits; 
he never conquers anything. 

Poem. 

Sweet is the pleasure 

Itself cannot spoil! 
Is not true leisure 

One with true toil? 

Thou that wouldst taste it, 

Still do thy best; 
Use it, not waste it, — 

Else 'tis no rest. 

Wouldst behold beauty 

Near thee? all round? 
Only hath duty 

Such a sight found. 

Rest is not quitting 

The busy career; 
Rest is the fitting 

Of self to its sphere. 

'Tis the brook's motion, 

Clear without strife, 
Fleeing to ocean 

After its life. 

Deeper devotion 

Nowhere hath knelt; 
Fuller emotion 

Heart never felt. 

'Tis loving and serving 

The highest and best; 
'Tis onwards! unswerving, — 

And that is true rest. 

— John Sullivan Dwight. 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 69 

Further Suggestions to the Teacher. — All sorts 
of examples could be introduced in this lesson by way 
of illustration. It would be well, perhaps, to devote 
ten minutes to instances showing how a person by 
getting behind, really has to do more work than if he 
did it on the instant. Application can be made to 
school and home life. But it is very important also to 
point the subject with regard to those who are adults. 
It will be noticed in this lesson that the main points 
have been drawn more with regard to the life of boys 
and men. But the subject should be carried into the 
life of girls and women, and applied to all the work 
of the home. Dwell on the lazy way of doing work 
in the house, of setting a table, of dressing one's self. 
Point out what a lazy housewife would mean. Show 
how certain women who have a large household accom- 
plish a great deal more and seem to have more time 
and leisure for other things than those who may have 
a small household and more assistance from others. 
Ask them to explain how it is that such persons have 
more time for self-improvement, or for doing work 
for others. A subject like this can be carried on in- 
definitely, and the children should be encouraged to 
give any number of illustrations or examples. 



CHAPTER VIII. 
DECEPTION. 

Proverbs or Verses. 

"Deception and treachery make no man rich." 
"It is an ill thing to be deceived, but worse to deceive." 
"0 what a tangled web we weave, 
When first we practice to deceive." 
"Who has deceived thee as often as thyself?" — Franklin. 
"He who whispers, lies." 
"The truth will out." 

"We live by reposing trust in each other. ' ' — Pliny. 
"Men are never so easily deceived as when they are endeav- 
oring to deceive others." — Rochefoucauld. 

Dialogue. 

Did you ever in your whole life by any chance know 
of a person who tried to deceive? You smile at my 
question, do you? But why? "Oh," you answer, "be- 
cause there are many persons who are guilty in this 
way." Do you mean that an immense number of people 
are always deceiving somebody? "No," you add, "not 
always, of course ; but they do it sometimes." 

Are they usually glad to have other people know 
of it and observe that they are doing this? Do they 
take pride in being able to deceive? "Usually not," 
you tell me. How, then, do they act? "Probably they 
try to hide it or not to have it discovered," you confess. 

You think it is a little as if they were ashamed of 
it? But is it always so with such people, would you 
assume? "Oh, they may not care, or sometimes they 
even boast of it," you reply. 

But what sort of persons would they be, who boasted 
of being clever at deceiving? "Why," you explain, 
"they would be individuals who were decidedly bad, 
or else persons who had fallen into the habit of it so 

70 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 71 

completely that they did not think anything about it." 

Is that the only reason ? Do you think that a person 
could ever be trying to deceive, and yet not quite know 
that he was doing it? "Yes," you admit, "that might 
sometimes take place." 

Do you believe that this could occur the first time 
the person tried it? "No," you add, "probably the 
first time one tried it one would be sure to be aware 
of it." It is possible, then, to fall into the habit of de- 
ceiving, so that one may do it without really being 
conscious of it? 

But what does a person do when he tries to deceive ? 
Is it always an outright lie? "No," you say, "people 
may not want to go as far as that." What is it they do, 
then? "Well, for instance," you point out, "they avoid 
giving a straight answer. They may say something 
which has two meanings to it." 

How can that be ? I ask. "Oh," you assure me, "we 
might use words which meant one thing to us, and yet 
we could know that the person we are speaking to did 
not understand the words quite in the same way. That 
is one way of getting around the truth and avoiding a 
straight answer." 

But if any one has ever done this to you and you 
have found it out, how do you feel about it? Do you 
then appreciate all the distinction he has made and 
rest satisfied that he has told you the truth? 

"No," you continue, "when that is done to us we are 
liable to call it a lie outright." I suspect this is almost 
everybody's experience. They do not think of it in 
that way when they do it to others. But when it is 
done to them, there is no distinction in their minds be- 
tween the black and the white lie. 

After certain persons have deceived you in that way, 
when they tell you something the next time, how do 
you feel towards them? "Oh," you exclaim, "we do 
not take what they say for certain. We have our 
doubts. We think perhaps they are trying to mislead 
us." 

Who, then, suffers the most, do you suppose, in the 



72 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

long run in that way, the one who is deceived or the 
one who deceives? For my part, I am strongly in- 
clined to think that the deceiving person in the^end 
gets the worst of it. People do not trust him. 

But have you any idea that a person could really 
deceive himself as well as other people? "Yes," you 
insist, "that might happen." How is that possible? It 
seems almost absurd. Can I not know what I am 
doing, or what I am thinking, or what I feel ? 

"Yes," you continue, "but one can cheat one's self 
about one's motive." You mean that if I asked you 
why you did a thing, you really may have one reason 
for it and tell me another? And by and by a person 
can deceive himself in that way by inventing reasons 
for conduct which at former times he would have been 
ashamed of? 

You see, then, that one may not only deceive other 
people by one's words, but also mislead one's self in re- 
gard to one's reasons or the motives for one's conduct. 
And so it is possible, perhaps, for a man to tell a 
straight lie to himself. 

What do people deceive for? Why do they do it? 
Why should they not always come out at once and tell 
exactly what is on their minds? 

"Well, for one reason," you point out, "they may 
take such a course in order to escape punishment. Per- 
haps they know they have done something which they 
have been forbidden to do." But do they really get 
punished in any other way, do you suppose? "Some- 
times," you admit. 

In what way, for example? "They may be found 
out," you say, "and then people lose confidence in 
them." Besides that, they feel mean in themselves, 
don't you think, at least at first, when they have been 
deceiving? 

What other motive can you suggest for such con- 
duct ? "Well," you continue, "they may do it in order 
to have persons think well of them/ 

You mean that they will run the risk of losing an- 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 73 

other person's respect simply in order to be respected 
more? I fear you are right. 

You have heard the phrase about people who put 
the best foot forward, or make the best outside 
possible? And are such persons found out? "Prob- 
ably?" Why? I ask. "Because," you add, "they fall 
into the habit of it, and then people begin to notice 
it and laugh at them for it." 

But can there be even worse motives for such con- 
duct? "Yes," you answer, "they may do it in order to 
gain something from somebody else." But does that 
not strike you as positively vile, for a person to deceive 
not merely to avoid punishment, or to look better in 
the eyes of others, but actually in order to get some- 
thing from other people? 

When we discover that persons have treated us in 
that way, we just despise them, do we not? 

Speaking of this habit of deceiving, how does it 
usually show itself? "Why," you explain, "it is by 
the way people talk, what they say to others. One 
deceives usually by means of words." 

But is that the only way? Do you think it might 
happen that a person's words could be absolutely true t 
no deception in them at all, and yet that he might be 
deceiving right along? "Perhaps," you admit; 'he 
may say one thing in words, and change the impression 
by the look on his face." 

Is he really guilty, then? He has spoken the exact 
truth. "Yes," you insist, "but it is deception, never- 
theless. He assumed that look on purpose." 

Is it only with the face or in what one says, that one 
can mislead? Might not the face look all truth, and 
the words be true, and yet a person be able to deceive ? 
"You hardly see how that would be possible?" But 
what about the tones of one's voice? Is it possible, 
for example, to say something true, and yet to change 
the effect of it by the way the words are spoken, or 
the way you pronounce them? 

Suppose I say of a certain individual: "He is a 
nice man." Can those words have more than one 



74 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

meaning? Would they always imply that I thought 
the man I was speaking of, was really a fine person 
whom I truly admired? "Not necessarily," you con- 
fess. 

What makes the difference? "One might throw a 
tone of contempt into the language," you add. "One 
could emphasize the word 'nice' and really speak as 
if one were despising the person." 

By the way, is it an easy thing, do you suppose, al- 
ways to avoid deceiving? "No," you reply, "some- 
times it comes very hard, indeed." Then you believe 
that occasionally it may seem more natural or easy 
to be deceitful than to speak the exact truth? 

Do you mean, then, that we could fall into this habit 
as a matter of course, so that we need to be on the 
lookout in order to escape it ? "Yes, it looks that way," 
you confess. I must agree with you. It comes very 
hard sometimes to tell the straight truth. One of the 
easiest habits to fall into, is this habit of deception. 

But why is it so easy ? Why should we fall into it so 
readily? "Well," you answer, "sometimes it may be 
the quickest way of getting out of a difficulty." You 
are right. It may not help one out of a difficulty in 
the long run, but it does so for the moment. 

Do boys and girls ever purposely mislead each other ? 
Or do they only deceive grown people? "Perhaps," 
you say, "they more often try to deceive grown people." 
And why? "As to that," you continue, "for one reason 
it may be easier to do so. Boys and girls know each 
other and are on the lookout for each other." 

I wonder what you will think about one other point 
I wish to put to you? It is bad or mean to deceive 
anyway ; but which is worse — to mislead a person who 
thoroughly trusts you, or a person who may not like 
you, perhaps despises you, or has no care for you at 
all? "In that case," you say, "it would seem even 
worse to deceive the person who trusts us." 

What sort of feeling may come over us sometimes 
if we have deceived and got ourselves out of a diffi- 
culty and afterwards begin to think about it? "Why," 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 75 

you add, "perhaps we feel ashamed." Anything more 
than that? "Yes. We wish that we had not done it." 

And why? "Well, for instance," you continue, "it 
makes one feel mean, or as if one had done something 
mean. It makes one despise one's self." 

Do you fancy that one could go on in this way, being 
deceitful for a long while, and never come to the point 
of telling an outright lie? "Probably the lie would 
come, too," you confess. I am afraid you are right. 
One begins by deceiving or trying to avoid the straight 
truth, and by and by one comes to telling outright lies. 

At any rate, when any one has deceived you, you 
usually feel, do you not, that the same person might 
lie to you the next time ? 

Points of the Lessor. 

I. That we can deceive by the way we speak, the way wo 
look, the way we act. 

II. That we can deceive by using words in one sense when 
we know they are understood in another sense by those who 
hear them. 

III. That people who begin by deceiving others, come by 
and by to deceive themselves. 

IV. That if we begin hj being deceitful we shall end by 
telling lies. 

V. That deceitful people are always found out after a time 
and then they are always distrusted by other people. 

VI. That deceitful people may not be believed by others, 
even when they tell the truth. 

VII. That deceit usually injures the deceiver mere than the 
person deceived. 

Duties. 

/. We ought to be straightforward in our language 
and dealings with others. 

II. We ought to be straightforward and true in our 
dealings with ourselves. 

Poem. 
"Boy, at all times speak the truth"— 

Further Suggestions to the Teacher. — This les- 
son should be developed with any number of anecdotes. 
Some of them probably will be suggested by the chil- 
dren themselves. On the other hand, as far as pos- 



j6 A STUDY OF HABITS, 

sible, keep mainly to the general subject with regard 
to deception through words or looks. Avoid over- 
lapping and entering upon the lesson dealing with 
"Cheating" or the one concerned with "Exaggeration." 
At the same time, after having taken up one of these 
topics, the teacher may naturally refer again to it. 
But avoid anticipating. The general subject oi 
"Cheating," "Deception," "Exaggeration" or "Un- 
truth" covers such a wide field that it is well to come 
back to it a number of times. Yet the children will 
tire of it if the series is made continuous. It is well, 
therefore, to take up a theme in this way under dif- 
ferent topics. One should be especially cautious when 
bringing out comparisons as to what forms of bad 
conduct are worse than others, lest for an instant we 
allow the children to feel as if the lesser evil were of 
small consequence. 



CHAPTER IX. 

BEING SAVING. 

Proverbs or Verses. 

"He who saves in little things can be liberal in great ones." 
German. 

"For age and want save while you may, 
No morning sun lasts the whole day." 

"Saving comes too late when you get to the bottom."— 

Seneca. 

"Saving is a greater art than gaining. ' ' — German. 

"Know when to spend and when to spare, 
And when to buy, and thou shalt ne'er be bare." 
"Thrift is the philosopher's stone." 
"A farthing saved is twice earned." 
"He that eats and saves, sets the table twice." 
"Cut your coat according to your cloth." 
"Waste not, want not — waste makes want." 
"Wasting is a bad habit; sparing, a sure income." 
"To burn out a candle in search of a pin." 
"In the happy family, as in the state, the best source of 
wealth is economy." — Cicero. 

Dialogue. 

We seem to come on many habits, good and bad, 
and you may think there are more bad ones than good 
ones. But that will depend. 

Suppose we talk today about a good habit. We 
mean by this, do we not, that a habit which is good is 
always a good habit? "Yes," you say, "of course." 
For instance, if acting under the influence of gener- 
osity you were to give something away to a person 
who asked for it, when it was really needed for a sick 
brother or sister at home, was it a good habit, never- 
theless? "No," you hesitate. 

But if so, it strikes me that you are taking back what 
you said at first. "Well," you add, "perhaps one good 

77 



78 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

habit needs to be kept in check by the influence of 
another good habit." Yes, that is the point exactly. 

Have you ever noticed the contrast between two boys 
or two girls, how, if they have any money given them, 
one goes at once and spends it, all of it, right away, 
and how the other may spend only a part at once, or 
perhaps not spend any of it right away at all, because 
he has thought the matter over and wishes to keep a 
part of it to put away somewhere ? 

How would you describe the conduct of this second 
boy or second girl? "Why," you explain, "it is beinpf 
saving." Yes, that is one way of expressing it. But 
can you think of any special characteristic it suggests — 
in a short word of one syllable, beginning with T? 
"Thrift ?" Yes ; and what does it mean ? "Oh, saving 
one's money," you explain. 

But is that it exactly? Suppose a person went on 
saving his money, not really allowing himself enough 
to eat or enough clothes to wear, just for the sake 
of the money, in order to hold it and keep it. Would 
you call that being thrifty? "No," you tell me, "just 
the other way. It implies saving one's money for a 
purpose, so as to be able to use it by and by." 

How do you speak of the man who saves the money 
just for itself, denying himself or his family even the 
necessaries of life? "He is a miser," you say. But he 
is saving, is he not? "Yes," you admit, "in a certain 
way." But is he thrifty? "Oh, no; on the contrary, 
he gets no good out of the money. It is of little more 
value to him when he has a great deal of it than when 
he had none at all." 

Do you recall a phrase we often use in regard to 
the saving habit, and what it is for? Something to 
do with the weather ? "Yes," you answer, "being ready 
for a rainy day." 

What sense is there in a saying like that? How 
does the saving habit make us ready for a rainy day? 
"Why," you point out, ''it means that if a man has to 
work out doors he may not be able to continue at his 
labor when it is raining, and so he cannot be earn- 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 79 

frig anything. At such a time, if he has not saved 
up, he will not be able to buy anything to eat or drink 
or any clothes to wear." 

It strikes you, does it, that being thrifty, in order 
to be ready for a rainy day, may be a good habit? 
But is it an easy one to acquire? Why is it, do you 
fancy, that some people are thrifty and some are un- 
thrifty? ''Well," you answer, "some people may not 
try hard enough." Try what? "Oh, try to be saving." 

You feel, do you, that it requires an effort to be 
saving? But why should that be so? One could be 
thinking of the pleasure one might get from spending 
the money by and by. 

"Yes," you add, "but that may not be as nice as 
having the pleasure just now." You assume, do you, 
that refusing pleasure just now for a greater pleasure 
by and by does not come easy as a habit? 

How would you describe the real purpose that we 
should have in wanting to have the habit of saving? 
If I can buy five cents' worth of pleasure today and 
five cents' worth tomorrow and five cents' worth the 
day after tomorrow, why is it not as good as fifteen 
cents' worth all at once? 

"As to that," you explain, "perhaps with three times 
as much money we can get more than three times the 
worth of satisfaction or pleasure." Yes, that is true. 
There are certain things we can have only by saving 
up for them, and it comes pretty hard to do it. 

Suppose, for instance, you wanted to make your 
father or mother a Christmas present, how could you 
possibly do it without asking them for the money? 
"Why," you say, "one might save one's pennies for 
a long while and then have enough to buy something 
for them." 

But could you spend the pennies, all of them, as they 
come, and be able to do this also? "No," you smile, 
"that could not be done." I wonder if you have ever 
heard of a rather slang saying in this connection, and 
whether you can see any meaning in it? It runs this 



SO A STUDY OF HABITS. 

way: "You cannot have your cake and eat it, too." 
That is nonsense, of course. 

But do you see any point to it? "Yes," you an- 
swer, "it implies that if one spends one's money, then 
it is gone and one cannot get any good from it by 
and by. One has to make one's choice." 

But do you think that we ought to save all that we 
get? Should every single penny or piece of money 
that is given to us be put away in a bank ? 

"No," you insist, "we need to get some good out 
of it as we go along.." Yes, you are right. One 
should be allowed to spend a little money or a little 
something of what one receives. 

Then what course might we pursue in order to be 
saving? What sort of a method could one try? 
"Why," you suggest, "one might perhaps save half 
the money that one gets, and put it in a bank, and 
spend the other half, or save three-quarters, or some- 
thing of that kind." 

But suppose a boy should spend a quarter of what 
he receives one day, and a half another day, and three- 
quarters the third day, do you think that boy would 
ever be able to save very much? "No," you assert, 
"on the contrary, he would probably end by giving 
up trying to save altogether." 

Why so ? He began by saving a good deal. "True," 
you continue, "but one must have a regular way of 
doing it, putting aside just so much all the while, or 
else one will not save at all." 

D'o you know how grown people sometimes proceed 
in order to be obliged to have a regular method of 
saving? What kind of an insurance do they often 
have, for instance? "Life insurance?" 

Yes, you see, people may compel themselves to adopt 
the habit of saving so much regularly, by taking out 
what they call "life insurance." Then they must keep 
up their payments, or else they would lose a great deal 
by stopping. 

But what if a person were. trying to be saving, and 
every time he got so much saved, perhaps twenty-five 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 8l 

cents or fifty cents, or one dollar, he went at once and 
spent it, and never managed to save more than just 
that fixed amount, what would be the trouble with 
that sort of a person? 

"Why," you assure me, "his habit was not fixed 
enough." But can you suggest any method by which 
he might be able to establish himself more firmly in 
the habit, and so prevent himself from using that 
money every time it reached a certain sum? 

"Oh," you say, "he might make a resolution." But 
do you think he would keep it? "You doubt it?" 
What else could he do? "Well," you answer, "he 
might put the money where he could not easily get it." 

You mean, do you, that he might place it in his 
father's or his mother's hands, and tell them not to 
give it back to him at all, until he had saved up two 
dollars or five dollars, or some other definite amount? 
In that way he would compel himself to improve in 
the habit of saving. 

What is it, in the long run, that keeps people from 
poverty? "Why," you assert, "it is work, earning 
one's living." But there are persons willing enough 
to work, w T ho yet are very poor? "Yes, sometimes," 
you admit. 

Then what is it that makes them poor? "Oh," you 
tell me, "they may have had bad luck. Maybe they 
could not get work. Perhaps they are sick or unfor- 
tunate." 

You think that misfortune or sickness or accident 
may keep a man poor. But is there any other possible 
cause? Could people who are unfortunate or even 
sickly, ever escape from poverty? "It might happen," 
you add; "they may receive gifts, or be able to earn 
more money when they do work, even if they cannot 
work as much as others." Yes, but what if they spend 
everything as they go along? "In that case," you tell 
me, "thev would be poor under any circumstances." 

What else, then, may keep people poor ? "Oh," you 
answer, "being unthrifty, and not having the habit 
of saving." Yes, that is emphatically true. Poverty 



82 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

very often comes, as well as great hardship, from 
carelessly spending as one goes. 

But how would it be if one waited until one grew 
up before cultivating the habit? Why should we be- 
gin to save a little even when we are children? "Well," 
you explain, "perhaps in that case it will come easier 
to us to save when we are grown men and women." 
Yes, you are right. 

Are there any young men, for instance, just begin- 
ning life, who spend every cent they earn every week ? 
Why is it they do this? "Perhaps," you suggest, 
"they never had the habit of doing otherwise. When 
money was given them they just spent it and never 
began the habit of saving anything." 

Yes, you are right. One may have to begin by 
saving what one receives as a gift, in order to form 
the habit of saving a part of what one earns. If we 
do not begin it as children we may never begin it at 
all. 

But there is another phase of this habit that is rather 
strange. Did you ever hear the proverb, "Penny wise, 
pound foolish?" Suppose I tell you what the words 
imply. 

The word "pound" means a sum of money, about 
$5.00, over in England, where the proverb arose. Now 
suppose a person should be very careful in saving his 
pennies, never wasting them, but when he had a larger 
amount, say five dollars, then should go and spend 
that whole amount on the first thing that came into 
his mind, how would that strike you? 

"Well," you answer, "he might almost as well have 
spent the pennies all along as fast as he received them." 
But would it be thrift? "Of a poor kind," you assert. 

You mean that being thrifty applies not only to 
what we do with the small sums we save, but the large 
sums as well; it depends on the importance of the 
purpose we spend our money for? 

What if a person has saved quite a large sum, sev- 
eral dollars, or even several hundred dollars, and then 
thinks of some really important thing he wants, and 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 83 

goes and spends the whole sum because he really re- 
quired it, would that be unthrifty? "No," you reply, 
"not if he needed that thing very much." But do you 
think it was wise of him to spend every cent of all he 
had saved? 

"Perhaps not quite all of it," you confess. Yes, I 
agree, with you. It is a bad kind of thrift to spend 
every cent of one's savings, even for something very 
important. Better keep a little in reserve and not let 
the last cent go. 

After all, what is the best purpose of all, would you 
say, in being saving or thrifty? "Being ready for a 
rainy day," you ansv/er ? Yes, but when the rainy days 
come, you may be able to borrow something from your 
friends. 

"That is true," you assure me, "but it is not so nice 
to borrow of one's friends." Why? I ask. "Oh, it 
makes one dependent on them.' You assume then, that 
one of the highest purposes of thrift is that we may 
be independent. 

Yes, it is a most painful experience if there is noth- 
ing left for you but to borrow from somebody. One 
somehow feels ashamed. It is no longer as if you just 
depended on yourself. It makes one feel "small." 

By the way, let me give you four pretty lines of verse 
describing the purpose of thrift: 

"Not for to hide it in a hedge, 
Nor for a train attendant; 
But for the glorious privilege 
Of being independent." 

You see the significance of the verse, do you not? 
The first man that the poet mentions, is the miser, who 
wants to save just in order to hide the money away. 
The second man is the one who wants to make a show, 
and have a lot of servants attending him. 

The third man who wishes to acquire the habit of 
saving, does it in order that he may not be a burden 
to others, but can be self-dependent and therefore in- 
dependent. 



84 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

Points of the Lesson. 

I. That saving should not be for the money's sake but as 
a means of self-preservation. 

II. That by saving, one can do more with larger resources 
when these can all be used at once or together. 

III. That saving has to be done regularly according to a 
system, if it is to be acquired as a habit. 

IV. That saving is one of the greatest means of avoiding 
the evils of poverty. 

V. That saving is also a great means toward preserving 
one's self-respect. 

VI. That the habit of saving should be formed when people 
are quite young, if it is to be acquired as a habit. 

VII. That people need to be saving about items great as 
well as small. 

VIII. That the habit of saving may preserve us from taxing 
our friends and being a burden to others. 

IX. That the habit of saving is supremely of value, by help- 
ing us to be self-dependent, rather than dependent on others. 

Duties. 

/. We ought to save so as to be ready for the "rainy 
day/' 

II. We ought to save, not for the money's sake 
only, but in order to be able to put our money to better 
or larger uses. 

III. We ought to begin saving when we are young, 
so as to acquire the habit of saving. 

IV. We ought not to spend our savings all at once. 

V. We ought to save so as to become self-dependent 
and to have our resources in ourselves. 

Further Suggestions to the Teacher. — In a 
lesson like this, a biography might be introduced for 
the purpose of illustration. The teacher should use 
his own judgment here in the matter of a choice. But 
he might for instance take up the story of the life of 
Peter Cooper. It is connected with experiences of 
struggle and hardship. And the point should be 
brought out that being saving as a habit can only be 
cultivated at a sacrifice involving hardship and often- 
times a great deal of struggle. A sketch could be 
given of the difficulties through which Peter Cooper 
passed and how finally he amassed his wealth. The 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 85 

advantage of this biography is that it also points the 
additional lesson in showing what opportunities one 
may have later in life to put one's savings to a good 
use, if one forms the habit in early days. The story 
should not be completed, therefore, without describing 
the philanthropy of Peter Cooper; how much good he 
accomplished with his money; and what a service he 
was able to render to the world by having had his 
experiences of struggle and hardship when young and 
by having acquired the habit of saving in his early 
days. Naturally the teacher must be on the lookout 
not to foster the expectation that the habit of saving 
T vill necessarily bring wealth. It can be stated that 
the wealth of Peter Cooper may have come in part 
by accident of special opportunities. Under any cir- 
cumstances, however, the young people can see that 
the habit of saving would be sure to put them in a 
better position for being of service to the world, 
whether or not they have a chance to accumulate 
wealth. There is also the subject of "Poor Richard" 
and the story of the life of Benjamin Franklin. 



CHAPTER X. 
BEING SOLDIERLY. 

Proverbs or Verses. 

"All are not soldiers who go to the wars." 
"He is not a good soldier who fights with his tongue." 
"The best soldiers are from the plow." 
"The stern joy that warriors feel 
In foemen worthy of their steel." — Sir Walter Scott. 

"A good cause mikes a stout heart and a strong arm." 

Dialogue. 

Note to the Teacher. — As boys and girls are always irter- 
ested in soldiers, it might be well to give two or three lessons 
to this subject, drawing out the children's views and discover- 
ing how much they know about it, at the same time, in a quiet 
way, introducing the ethical points every now and then, and 
without making this feature too conspicuous, gradually work- 
ing up to the point that being soldierly is a habit, and that 
men only become good soldiers by long drill. 

Did you ever see a soldier in the streets ? How does 
he look ? In what way does he seem unlike the ordinary 
person? "Why," you tell me, "he dresses differently. 
He wears a uniform." 

What do you mean by a uniform ? "Oh," you reply, 
"it is a dress of certain color or certain shape." Quite 
true. But is that all? "No," you continue, "sometimes 
he carries a gun or wears a sword." 

But if he did not wear any special uniform or carry 
any weapon, do you think you could ever recognize 
that a man was a soldier? "Yes, perhaps," you sug- 
gest. 

How would you know? "By the way he walks, for 
instance," you say; "the way he holds himself, or the 
way he stands." But what is the difference between 
his walk, or the way he holds himself, and the walk 
of other people? 

86 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 87 

"In that regard," you add, "it is more soldier-like. 
He stands straighter, holds his shoulders more erect, 
perhaps." 

How many kinds of soldiers do we have? What is 
the most usual type? "Why," you answer, "the foot 
soldier, the 'private/ as he is called; the one who 
marches on foot." 

And what other kind of soldiers may there be, who 
do not march on foot? "Well," you continue, "there 
are the horsemen, who fight on horseback, the cav- 
alry." 

If a country had only cavalry and foot soldiers, 
would it always be safe? What if ships came sailing 
over the seas to make an attack? "Oh," you add, "there 
is also the navy." Yes. Then you would have a third 
kind of soldier, those who fight on warships. 

But do you suppose that all soldiers fight with guns 
or revolvers or swords ? What other class would they 
have need of in an army? "As to that," you say, "there 
are the men who look after the cannon or big guns." 
Yes, that is true. We may call them the artillerymen. 
But are you going to stop there? Who make the 
music ? 

"Oh, yes," you assure me, "there is the band." But 
are they not soldiers? "True," you answer, "they 
wear the uniform. They are soldiers. They too must 
be in the battle, if the fighting is going on." 

And how are the men in an army graded? Who 
ranks above the private soldier? "Oh," you exclaim, 
"the officers." And what are the titles of some of the 
officers? "Captain, lieutenant, colonel, general?" Yes. 
How about the titles of officers on the sea, in the navy ? 
What terms do they have? "Commander?" "Admiral?" 
Yes. 

Now come to the main point. What are soldiers 
for? "Why, to fight," you assert. Do you mean that 
all the soldiers in the army at the present time have 
been in war, and have had to fight? "No, not yet," 
you admit, "but they may have to do this sometime." 
But if there should be no more war in this country for 



88 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

the next fifty years, as long as these men live, would 
they not have been real soldiers? 

"Yes," you insist. And would it not be important 
to have soldiers in the country just the same? "Per- 
haps/' you answer. Why so? I ask. 

"Oh," you add, "we may need to have them so as to 
avoid the necessity of war." What do you mean by 
that? 

"Why," you explain, "if other nations know that 
we have soldiers and a good many of them and so can 
defend ourselves, they are less liable to attack us." 

Then you imply that soldiers are here not only for 
the sake of fighting, but also for the sake of making 
fighting unnecessary. That is quite an interesting 
point. 

Are all soldiers just alike, do you suppose? "Not 
by any means," you assert. Why not? A soldier is 
a soldier. He wears a uniform, is ready to go into 
battle. 

"True/' you add, "but some may march better than 
others, fight better, show more courage. Some will 
run away more quickly than others." 

If so, then which class of soldiers do you think would 
fight or march or do their work better ; those who had 
been in the army quite a long time, or those who had 
been there only for a short while? 

"Surely," you say, "those who have been in the 
army quite a long time." But how do you explain 
that?" I ask. Can not a man study, read books and 
find out how to be a soldier, and then become a good 
soldier at once by that means? 

You smile at that, I see. But why ? "Because," you 
insist, "a soldier must have drill." What do you mean 
by that? I ask. 

"Why," you point out, "he must march with other 
men and go through the movements, do what the others 
do. He must practise." Well, how much? For a 
week or ten days, do you think? 

"No," you add, "for a long time. He must practice 
a great deal." Why is it that a man cannot walk in 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 89 

a soldierly way or make the movements at once when 
they are described to him? 

"As to that," you answer, " a man might do it cor- 
rectly the first time. But it is another thing to do it 
in that way right along." But what if he keeps think- 
ing about it all the time? "If he must keep thinking 
about it all the while," you reply, "he would not be able 
to think about anything else." 

What is it, after all, more than anything else, that 
makes a soldier ? What sort of discipline ? "Oh," you 
say, "drill and a good deal of it." You assert, then, 
do you, that a man must be made to do the same thing 
over and over again, hundreds of times, until he dees it 
without thinking anything about it. Is that it? 

And so being a soldier is something that comes only 
as a habit, is it ; and the true soldier will only be this 
in so far as he has the habit of a soldier? 

And yet, these men will do very little fighting. I sup- 
pose if a war were to last several years, very few sol- 
diers would actually be in a battle more than a few 
times, and that only for a day or two at a time. What 
is all this drill for? Is it just in order to fit a man for 
a battle? 

"Yes," you insist, "that is what it must be for; just 
so that a man will be ready to fight when the time 
comes." 

When there is a battle, for instance, what is the feel- 
ing in the mind of the soldier, do you suppose ? Would 
he be perfectly quiet, unexcited, just as if it were a 
time of peace and there were no war at all ? 

"Oh no," you smile at that ; "of course he would be 
tremendously excited." Why? "Bcause," you answer, 
"there would be the danger. He might get killed. Per- 
haps other people are being killed all around him." 

What would happen, if he got too excited? "Oh," 
you exclaim, "he would be frightened and would want 
to run away!" Indeed! And what is it that would 
keep him from being frightened or wishing to escape ? 
"His courage," you reply. 

And where does he get that courage ? "As to that," 



90 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

you explain, "it may come naturally to him." But is 
that all ? Do you think that a man who had never had 
any experience as a soldier and never was on a field of 
battle, would be as cool and steady as another who 
had had long drill? "No," you admit, "it is the drill 
that does it more than anything else." Yes, I believe 
you are right. 

But what if it were a sudden danger ; almost all per- 
sons, if they are courageous, can face a sudden danger, 
can they not? "True," you say, "but if the danger 
lasts for a long while, a whole day or several days, 
then it is another matter." 

Have you any idea how long men usually have to 
serve as soldiers in order to receive the proper drill, 
in those countries where every man has to be a soldier? 
"Oh, a long while," you say. 

Yes. Over in Germany, for instance, most of them 
are obliged to be soldiers for at least two years. This 
seems a long time, does it not ? Yet there is a differ- 
ence. Some of the citizens of that country only serve 
one year. And those are the educated men who grad- 
uate from a college. They have to go through the 
drill for one year, while the uneducated have to under- 
go it for two or three. 

Can you see the reason for this? "Yes," you say, 
"the educated man can learn more quickly, adapt him- 
self better." 

Do you mean that education itself is a kind of drill, 
a drill for the mind, if it is thorough, somewhat similar 
to the drill in the legs and arms which a man gets when 
he becomes a solider? If so, the educated man has in 
a way been put through part of a soldier's training, in 
the hard discipline of study and mental work. 

Suppose, however, a man had all the courage that 
was necessary so that he would never be afraid, and 
were strong and vigorous so that he could go on march- 
ing and never get tired ; suppose he knew how to carry 
a musket or to use a sword as well as any other man. 
Then do you see why he should need any drill? 

"Yes," you assert, "he must be able to learn how to 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 91 

move with the other soldiers." True. One fighter all 
by himself would not be good for much. In order to 
be a real soldier one has to be drilled for days and 
weeks and months along with others, so that the men 
can all work together, or move together, or act to- 
gether. 

You see, if in moments of excitement men lose their 
heads and forget, they may not act together at all, and 
get all mixed up and confused. Unless they have had 
the drill, making them all move together in one way 
without thinking anything about it, they would make 
poor soldiers when the battle came on. 

Suppose now we write down some of the qualities of 
a good soldier, noting them one by one. What is the 
first one you would think of? "Courage/' you say? 
Yes. But go on. That is not enough. Must he be 
strong or be able to endure ? "Of course," you assure 
me. Put that down also : "Endurance." 

But what if a man, for instance, was not afraid at 
all; was brave and bold and able to endure a great 
deal; yet took his own way and acted as he pleased 
on the battlefield. Would he be a good soldier? "Not 
by any means," you exclaim. 

Then what would be wanting? What also would 
he have to do? "Why," you tell me, "he would have 
to obey orders, do exactly what he is told to do." 

You mean to say, then, that a soldier has to obey, 
just like a child ? Very well. Put that down : "Obedi- 
ence to orders." 

Do officers have to obey orders, like the private sol- 
diers ? "Yes," you explain, "they must obey the orders 
of their superior officers." And these superior offi- 
cers ? "Yes, they must obey the orders of the Presi- 
dent." 

Have we come to the end of the list, do you think? 
What if a man were to shoot his gun the wrong way, 
or not know how to load it; would he be a good 
soldier ? 

"No," you smile, "of course not." What else shall 
we put down besides ? What other quality ? "Knowl- 



Q2 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

edge/' you add? Yes. He must know how to obey 
orders, and not merely be willing to obey. He must 
know how to do what he is told to do. 

Have we come to the end of this list? Knowledge, 
the Spirit of Obedience, Endurance, Courage. That is 
a great deal. But what if he were slow or awkward ; 
would he still be a good soldier? "No, indeed." What 
else, then, shall we add? "Why," you say, "quickness 
or promptness." Yes. He must not only know how 
to do his work, but be able to do it with great quick- 
ness or speed. 

By the way, do you recall the expression we ordi- 
narily use in speaking of the chief duty of the good 
soldier, apart from fighting? What is it that he must 
do? Suppose a man were stationed at a certain spot, 
and told to stay there, what would it imply? "Why," 
you answer, "keeping to his post." Yes, that is the 
word. A good soldier is the man who can keep to 
his post. 

What if he is a picket on guard, and it is dark and he 
is alone ? It is cold, cheerless. There is danger of being 
shot. There he stands with the one duty before him. 
You will see that it requires a great many qualities in 
order to be able to do just that one thing. 

And what is it we have said that more than any- 
thing else develops these qualities in a man? "Drill," 
you answer? Yes, it is drill that makes the soldier. 

Points of the Lesson. 

I. That a man becomes a good soldier only by drill, and a 
great deal of it. 

II. That the good soldier must be able to obey orders with- 
out asking questions. 

III. That being soldierly means having courage and endur- 
ance. 

IV. That the duty of a soldier is to stand to his post and 
to obey orders. 

V. That being soldierly means being willing to submit to 
drill and discipline. 

Further Suggestions to the Teacher. — As the 
subject of soldiers and armies is always of interest to 
children, additional features could be introduced, if 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 93 

thought best, through pictures of various kinds. The 
teacher might get an illustration of a soldier standing 
at his post, or on the other hand, of some monument 
of a soldierly figure. In showing this, point out the 
erect carriage, the way the soldier stands and holds his 
head, the strength and force latent there. Dwell on 
all those elements which have come into that figure or 
person through drill and discipline, and let the young 
people note these features themselves, if they can do 
so. Then, too, a picture might be secured of a regi- 
ment in the act of marching. This is of value in show- 
ing how they are moving together, almost as one man. 
Here, too, draw out the fact that this has come through 
the drill and discipline. Let the young people see that 
acting together in this way can only come by habits of 
submission to orders, from being accustomed to obey 
rules. Instead of encouraging the interest of the young 
people in soldiers on the fighting side, try and attract 
their attention to those habits which make the good 
soldier. For this reason do not bring in pictures of 
wars or battles. Let the members of the class feel that 
all this drill and discipline in making the good soldier, 
serve rather the purpose of avoiding war, by having an 
army ready to fight, if necessary, through the drill and 
discipline which the men have received. Emphasize 
again and again, as far as it can be done, without mak- 
ing it monotonous, that obedience to orders, with sub- 
mission to rules, is what makes the soldierly character, 
developing those characteristics which people especially 
admire. 



CHAPTER XL 
CITIZEN SOLDIERS: CHIVALEY. 

Proverbs or Verses. 

"There are soldiers of the plow as well as soldiers of the 
sword." 

"Do you ask me in general, what will be the end of the 
conflict? I answer, 'Victory.' But if you ask me in particu- 
lar, I answer, 'Death.' " — Savonarola. 

"Fear to do base, unworthy things, is valor; 

If they are done to us, to suffer them is valor, too." 
"When Duty whispers low: 'Thou must,' 
The youth replies, 'I can.' " — Emerson. 
"Perfect valor consists in doing without witnesses 
All we should be capable of doing before the world." 

— Rochefoucauld. 
"True valor knows as well how to suffer as to act." 
"When valor preys on reason it eats the sword it fights 
with." 

Dialogue. 

If you heard it said of a person: "He is a soldierly 
man," what would you understand by it? 

"Oh," you say, "perhaps it implied that the man at 
one time had been a soldier. Or possibly it meant 
that he is a soldier now." But would that be the only 
suggestion ? Could there be any sense in the words if 
the man never had been in the army? 

"Yes," you admit, "it might indicate that the man 
had soldierly qualities." Fighting, do you think? 
Would you assume that he was a person fond of quar- 
reling? "No, not quite that," you reply, "it asserts 
rather that he would make a good soldier if he had to 
be one, or if ever he were to join the army." 

That he could make a good, ready-made soldier 
without drill, do you say? "Oh, no, not that," you reply, 
"it means that he has certain characteristics which in a 
real soldier would make a very good one." 

94 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 95 

Can you explain to me further what it all implies, 
this idea of being a soldier in time of peace and without 
uniform ? You insist that it does not necessarily make 
one think of a fighting person. Could a man be 
soldierly if he had no fight in him at all, if he could not 
"push" or be vigorous at certain times? 

"Oh, no," you assure me. "But there are other 
forms of fighting besides that in war," you suggest. 

In what way, then, could a man show a soldierly, 
fighting spirit, without wearing a uniform or carrying 
a musket? "In politics, for example," you say. And 
would that mean striking men or beating them in any 
way? "No," you add, "only trying to make his side 
win." 

Then you believe, do you, that it is the part of a true 
soldier in peace to fight for his side in politics? "Yes," 
you assert, "if he is on the right side." 

You think that a man could not be a true soldier in 
peace and be on the wrong side? "No," you insist, 
"although he might be a good fighter." But what would 
be the trouble in such a man. He might have courage, 
endurance, promptness, knowledge — just those quali- 
ties that we described as being characteristic of a good 
soldier. Then why would he not be a true one, as 
well? 

"Because," you point out, "the motives also count, 
and he must have good motives." You are convinced 
that if he knows he is in the wrong he cannot have 
true motives as a fighter ? Yes, I agree with you. 

But how else, for instance, could a man show a 
soldierly spirit even if he carried no musket or had no 
uniform? In what way besides in politics? "Oh," 
you exclaim, "he might stand up for a person who had 
been wronged." By what means? Should he strike 
the man who is doing the wrong? 

"No, not that," you reply. "He could help the man 
defend himself by the law in the courts, perhaps ; or try 
to protect him." 

But suppose that nothing could be done through the 
courts. What if a man is being wronged in such a 



96 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

way that the law cannot help him. Suppose he is being 
attacked by false statements which are being made 
about him, and his reputation being injured in that 
way. How could the true soldier show the right spirit 
as a fighter ? 

"Why," you continue, "he could stand up for the 
man, take his side, deny the charges, show a friendly 
spirit toward him, let other people see that he was on 
that man's side." 

Does this take courage, do you say? "Yes, indeed, 
any amount of it." Why ? I ask. What courage should 
it require just to stand up for another man? It does 
not injure one's life or property. 

"True," you answer, "but to uphold an unpopular 
man may make a person also unpopular, and so one 
may have to bear some of the charges the other man 
has to bear." 

Does it ever happen, for instance, that a boy or girl 
in school may become unpopular among the others, and 
yet be a really good, fine boy or girl, so that the unpop- 
ularity is not fair or right ? "Yes," you continue, "that 
might occur." 

But if so, would it be perfectly easy to take his side? 
"Not exactly," you admit Why not? "Oh, because 
it would make other boys or girls laugh at us. It would 
make us unpopular, too." 

Then it may call for a man with truly soldierly quali- 
ties to stand up for an unpopular person and defend 
him? I certainly believe you are right. Oftentimes it 
requires the greatest amount of courage to be just and 
true toward people who are unpopular. 

But what about people who are in distress ? Do you 
see any way by which a man could show himself sol- 
dierly on such occasions? "Why, yes," you add, "he 
might help or protect the person in distress." You 
think that if a man had lost all his money, and his fam- 
ily were in need, that it would be showing a soldierly 
characteristic to go and assist the family or to manifest 
a spirit of sympathy? 

By the way, did you ever hear the word "chivalry ?" 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 97 

What does it mean? "Yes," you answer, "it applies 
to soldiers who used to wear armor and rode on horse- 
back and fought one another with swords and lances." 

And what did they call such soldiers in the days of 
chivalry, who used to fight in that fashion. "Knights?" 
Did they fight with guns, do you suppose, with revolv- 
ers, with rifles? "No," you say, "more often with 
swords." Then do you imply that any soldier who 
wore armor and fought on horseback with such weap- 
ons, would be truly chivalrous or represent chivalry? 

What if he were a splendid fighter and displayed 
any amount of courage, but were discourteous to 
women. Would that be chivalry? "Oh, no," you as- 
sert, "he would not have been a true knight if he had 
been discourteous to women." 

Then being chivalrous meant sometimes more than 
fighting on horseback and wearing armor; it implied 
being courteous, respectful or reverent toward women ? 
But what else? Suppose a soldier were a splendid 
fighter, very brave and strong. But what if he should 
happen to see a lame man and shoved him aside out 
of the way ? Would that be chivalry ? 

"Not by any means," you answer. But why? again 
I ask. 

"Oh, well," you add, "it would be mean, unworthy of 
the true soldier to treat a man in that way, who had an 
infirmity." Then being chivalrous meant also showing 
respect for the weak or unfortunate, did it? 

Does not this imply that there could be chivalry now- 
a-days just as much as hundreds of years ago; that a 
man might show the spirit of chivalry if there were no 
more war, or if he did not wear armor or uniform ? 

As a soldier he could protect the unfortunate, show 
respect for the weak or infirm, have regard and rever- 
ence for women. He could fight for those who were 
in trouble and stand up for the unpopular man. He 
could do all this, could he, in time of peace ? 

If that is true, perhaps we might be glad to have 
peace soldiers as well as war soldiers. 



g8 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

Points of the Lesson. 

I. That a man can have a true soldierly spirit without 
being in the army or fighting in war. 

II. That the true soldier is the man who fights for the 
right, even when there i3 no glory in it — putting the same 
energy in such effort that other men may put into real blood- 
shed or war. 

III. That a soldier must have right motives, else he is 
not a true soldier — and so also of the man with the soldierly 
spirit. 

IV. That being soldierly may mean standing up for the 
man who has been wronged — taking the side of persons who 
have made themselves unpopular by doing what is right. 

V. That to be soldierly in spirit means displaying chivalry 
and obeying the principles of chivalry. 

VI. That chivalry implies taking the side of the weak 
or infirm, showing peculiar respect to those less strong than 
one's self, and in the third place paying a high regard to 
woman. 

Poem. 

Once, as many German princes 

Feasting sat at knightly board, 
Each began to boast the treasures 

He within his lands had stored. 

Cried the Saxon: "Great and mighty 

Is the wealih, the power I wield, 
For within my Saxon mountains 

Sparkling silver lies concealed." 

"Mine's the land that glows with beauty!" 

Cried the ruler of the Rhine; 
"In the valleys yellow cornfields, 

On the mountains noble wine!" 

"Wealthy cities, spacious castles," 

Lewis said, Bavaria's lord, 
"Make my land to yield me treasures 

Great as those your fields afford." 

Wurtemberg's beloved ruler, 

Everhard, called "the Bearded," cries, 

"I can boast no splendid cities, 
In my hills no silver lies; 

"But I still can boast one jewel: 

Through my forests, wandering on, 
All my subjects know me — love me — 

I am safe with every one." 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 99 

Then the princes, all together, 

Rose within that lofty hall: 
"Bearded count, thou'rt rich," they shouted, 

"Thou art wealthiest of us all!" 

— Anonymous. 

Further Suggestions to the Teacher. — Ah un- 
limited opportunity is offered in this chapter for discus- 
sion and illustration. The lesson could be lengthened 
out by talking about "Knights" in the days of chivalry ; 
what kind of men they were, the armor they wore, how 
they used to fight-— also showing pictures of the sub- 
ject. The children could be asked whether they knew 
anything about King Arthur and the Knights of the 
Round Table. Some incidents connected with that 
story could be introduced. But the main point of it all 
should be to make the children feel that chivalry not 
only pertained to those days, but that the spirit of it 
ought to be preserved and maintained at the present 
time. It is a beautiful word, chivalry, and one that 
boys and girls should appreciate. Perhaps the tables 
could be turned and the girls asked in what way they 
could be chivalrous, or in what way they might show 
themselves unworthy of being treated in a chivalrous 
spirit. Make it plain that girls have their work to do 
as well as boys, in chivalry. The point with regard to 
standing up for the unpopular person can be brought 
home to the girls by suggesting how they can show 
courage in being helpful under such circumstances. If 
the teacher wishes to use a biography, he might intro- 
duce something concerning the life of Prince Albert, 
the husband of the late Queen Victoria of England. 
One could dwell on the fine qualities of chivalry this 
man exhibited, the peculiar delicacy and difficulty of 
his position, the soldierly qualities he displayed in the 
arts of peace, and what he did in arranging for the first 
great World's Fair ever held, in the Crystal Palace at 
London. If the photograph is also available, the 
teacher could introduce a picture of the Albert Me- 
morial Monument in London, describing how this 
monument was erected in honor of that Prince, who 
had shown such fine soldierly qualities in civil life and 



IOO A STUDY OF HABITS. 

lived up to the principles of chivalry in the arts of 
peace. It is significant that this should have been done 
in honor of his memory, this great monument erected, as 
if he had been one of the great soldiers or warriors of 
England. The older pupils would be interested perhaps, 
in having their attention called to the fact that Tenny- 
son should have dedicated his "Idyls of the King'* to 
Prince Albert. 



CHAPTER XII. 
AMBITION. 

Proverbs or Verses. 

"Ambition is as hollow as the soul of an echo." 
"Ambition is the last infirmity of noble minds. ' ' 
"Ambition is the way in which a vulgar man aspires." — 
Beecher. 

"Ambition, thou powerful source of good or ill." — Young. 

"Black ambition stains a public cause." — Pope. 

"By jumping at the stars you may fall in the mud." 

"He that cuts above himself will get splinters in his eyes/' 

"He would fain fly, but wants feathers." 

"There is no eel so small but it hopes to become a whale." 
■ — German. 

"Vaulting ambition o'erleaps itself." — Shakespeare. 

"He that will not strive in this world should not have come 
into it." — Italian. 

"He who strives to do, does more than he who has the 
power." 

"If I were a cobbler, I'd make it my pride, 

The best of all cobblers to be; 
If I were a tinker, no tinker beside 

Could mend an old kettle like me." 

"If what shone far so grand, 
Turns to nothing in thy hand; 
On again! the virtue lies 
In the struggle, not the prize." 

"He who does not improve today will grow worse tomor- 
row." — German. 

Dialogue. 

Suppose a boy or girl in school is working very hard 
indeed, trying to do better than any of the other boys 
and girls, so as to get ahead of all of them, if possible. 
What would you call that? 

"Showing off," you say ; "trying to be smart ; want- 
101 



102 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

ing to get favor with the teachers." True, those 
might all be motives for such conduct. But that is not 
what I mean. What is the one habit that would ex- 
plain it ; a big word of three syllables ? "Ambition ?" 
Yes, that is the word I am thinking of. 

And now that you have spoken of it as showing off, 
evidently you do not think much of such a habit. 
" Well," you add, "it depends a good deal as to what 
one is ambitious about, or what the real purpose of the 
ambition may be." 

You assume, then, do you, that there may be more 
than one kind of ambition, so that sometimes it may be 
a good habit, and then again it may be a bad habit? 
In this special case that I mention, what was it that 
made you speak rather slightingly of the motive. The 
language you used was most contemptuous. 

"Why," you explain, "all that boy or girl was trying 
to do was just merely to get ahead of the others. And 
this would not be the very best sort of a purpose to 
have." 

Yes, but stop a moment and reflect. Is that not just 
what you do when you play? When you are at a 
game, do you not try to get ahead of others ? Is not 
that a form of showing off ? "True," you admit, "but 
then, that is play." 

You mean that the motives should be different ac- 
cording as the effort applies to play or to work? I 
certainly agree with you. You believe, then, that 
merely trying to "show off" in one's work is not a very 
fine sort of a motive or a high sort of ambition ? 

But would not that be a spur, for example, to urge 
the boy or girl on to very hard work, and so make them 
very studious and help to develop habits of study? 

"It depends," you answer, "on what kind of persons 
the other boys and girls are ; if they do not amount to 
much, are not very studious, or have not much mind, 
then it may be very easy to pass ahead of them and to 
shine, even without the habit of study." 

You evidently do not approve of the motive of ambi- 
tion as a habit of showing" off. But tell me, in what 



A STUDY OF HABITS. IO3 

case would it really imply a good habit? "Why," you 
point out, "if we try very hard to please our teacher 
or our father or mother, because we are fond of them 
and want to have them think well of us." 

It is certainly a nice and beautiful distinction you 
make between the motive to get ahead of others, and 
the desire to win other people's approval. But can you 
suggest another form of ambition? What do we 
have in mind sometimes when we say that a man is 
trying to rise in the world? 

"Oh," you answer, "it may mean trying to make 
money." Yes, but make money for what purpose? I 
ask. "Why," you continue, "it is when the money is 
desired so that one can have more position or be more 
of a person, have more influence." 

How would you describe, for instance, the boy or 
girl who is supposed to have a good deal of influence ? 
"It would be the one who is a kind of leader," you 
add, "one who is ready with suggestions as to what 
to do; the one who can take the lead in play, propose 
games ; or the one who has ideas or opinions, and can 
make those opinions accepted by others." 

And do you think it would be quite right for a per- 
son to be ambitious to have influence in that way? 
Would it be the same as trying to show off or to get 
ahead of others ? 

"No, not exactly the same thing," you tell me; "in 
having influence one may be doing a service, helping 
others. If one knows more than they do, one can be a 
guide to them." 

Then you think that ambition as a desire to be of 
influence, may after all be a good and true motive, 
while the mere effort to show off is otherwise. 

But when you hear a person sp6ken of contemptu- 
ously or with indignation, as being very ambitious, 
what usually comes to your mind ? What sort of per- 
sons in history are usually considered to have been the 
ambitious ones? "The conquerors," you suggest, "the 
soldiers, the men who have been tyrants or ruled over 
others." 



104 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

Yes, that is the phrase I am thinking of: "Ruling 
over others." Bad ambition may imply just the sheer 
habit of trying to rule. But what is the difference be- 
tween this and having influence over others ? 

When you seek to influence a person, what do you 
appeal to, usually ? You would not strike him, would 
you? "No," you assert. Would you laugh at him? 
"No?" Why not? "Oh, laughing would prejudice 
him against us," you say, "instead of influencing him." 

But what would you do? "Why, we should speak to 
him, talk to him, argue with him." Then what is it 
in the person that you 'appeal to? "His mind," you 
answer. Yes, in trying to have influence over a per- 
son, we aim to reach his mind, and so to make him 
think and feel as we do. 

But do you fancy you would try to do it in this w T ay 
if you felt sure you were in the wrong; if you knew 
you were mistaken? "No," you admit, "we do this 
because we are convinced that we are right." 

Then the form of ambition which seeks to have in- 
fluence over others, really means, does it, trying to 
have the right or the truth influence them just as you 
think it influences you. 

When, however, a person is ambitious to rule over 
others, does he appeal to their minds? "No," you say, 
"he wants that others should obey whether they agree 
or not. He desires to control others." 

What is it that the tyrant, then, most enjoys? "He 
likes to command people; to make them obey." And 
how does he accomplish it ?■ — by helping the person, by 
influencing his mind ? 

"No," you assert, "more often he does it by con- 
quering him, injuring him." Then bad ambition, you 
imply, is of a kind that tends to injure people. It is the 
desire just to rule over them whether right or wrong. 

What, then, is the thing we say the ambitious man, 
in so far as his motive is bad, most cares for?^ Can 
you suggest the word ? It has only five letters in it and 
begins with a "p." "Power?" Yes. Bad ambition cares 
mainly or only for power. 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 105 

Now to come back to the other kind, the good ambi- 
tion. Take the example we spoke of at the outset, the 
boy or girl who is studying hard. "Why," you say, 
"if the desire is to win the approval of older persons or 
one's teachers, then it is worthy." But can you sug- 
gest any other still higher kind of motive, than just 
seeking for the approval, of others? 

What if, for instance, a boy or girl did not study 
hard, but only tried to look as if he were doing so, and 
in that way won the approval of the teachers or his 
elders? "Oh," you continue, "that would be sham or 
make-believe. It would be a kind of lie." 

What, then, would be the true sort of ambition at 
the bottom of all, in the desire to please your teachers 
or your elders? "Why," you explain, "It would be 
the effort to improve ourselves." 

But do you see any resemblance at all between this 
and the desire of trying to get power, the bad kind of 
ambition you spoke of ? "Oh, no," you assure me, "of 
course they are quite different." 

I am not quite sure about that. Is the boy who is 
trying to improve himself not trying to get power? 
"Yes," you admit, "he may be trying to get power over 
himself, or the kind which comes with knowledge." 
Then you see, after all, good ambition is also a desire 
for power, only of another kind. 

I remember having seen a line from an English poet 
that ran as follows : 

"Ambition, thou powerful source of good or ill!" 

What sense do you make out of that, or does it 
mean anything at all? 

"Why," you tell me, "it implies just what we have 
been saying, that sometimes ambition may be good and 
then again it may be bad." 

What was the bad kind? "The desire just merely 
to rule over others or to shine more than others?" 
Yes, and what was the good ambition ? "Oh, the wish 
to improve one's self." 

But do you think that one can have too much of the 



106 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

good kind, too much desire to improve one's self? "We 
don't see how that is possible," you continue. 

Then let me quote another proverb and will you tell 
me whether you notice any reference in it to the point 
we are discussing? It reads this way: 
"By jumping at the stars you may fall in the mud." 

Do you see how anyone could do a silly thing like 
that? What allusion do you recognize there to the 
subject of ambition? "As to that," you say, "it means 
aiming too high, trying to reach a point beyond one's 
capacities." 

Did you ever hear of people who fancy they have 
certain gifts when they do not have them ? Could you 
imagine a person trying to become a great artist, to do 
wonderful things in painting, for example, when not 
really having any capacity in that direction? 

Would such ambition be wrong? He would be try- 
ing to improve himself, to make himself a great paint- 
er. "Oh, yes," you exclaim, "but, then, he could not 
succeed because he has no gifts in that line." 

And what usually becomes of such persons, who try 
to do things quite beyond them ? "Why," you explain, 
"they usually fail to do anything at all, or make them- 
selves laughed at." 

And now do you see any sense in that proverb? 
How would you describe the person who jumped at 
the stars? "Why," you point out, "it would be the 
one who tried to achieve something he was utterly in- 
capable of, or not at all fitted for." 

Points of the Lesson. 

I. That ambition may be good or bad according to the 
motive behind it. 

II. That bad ambition means the desire to get power 
over others whether it is good for the others or not. 

III. That bad ambition means striving after glory, whether 
one deserves it or not. 

IV. That bad ambition means trying to be as important 
as others or to rise above others by trying to do what one is 
unfit for or quite incapable of. 

V. That good ambition implies the effort to improve 
one's self, so as to achieve all that one is capable of. 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 10? 

VI. That good ambition means the effort to get influence, 
so as to be of service to others. 

VII. That good ambition tries to win influence over the 
minds of people rather than to have power over people them- 
selves. 

Duties. 

/. We ought to try and improve ourselves, so as to 
make the best use of the gifts with which we are en- 
dowed. 

II. We ought to try to be of influence in the world, 
so as to be of service to others. 

III. We ought to care for power only in so far as 
we can do the most good with it. 

IV. We ought to strive for the esteem of others, if 
it is an esteem we deserve. 

Poem. 

"Try, Try, again"— 

Further Suggestions to the Teacher.— If 
thought best, this lesson could be divided into two 
parts, one session being devoted to "bad" ambition and 
the other to "good" ambition. It must all depend on 
the interest in the subject displayed by the members 
of the class. Opportunities for illustration through 
biography are manifold. A story of some life could 
be given, where complete failure had occurred through 
overreaching one's self in "vaulting" ambition. And 
then on the other hand, by contrast another life could 
be brought forward, where the ambition was of a good 
kind, in the effort to be of real service to the v/orld. 
Care must be taken not to throw contempt on the 
desire for the esteem of others. This would be push- 
ing the spirit of resignation too far. More is accom- 
plished if we emphasize the importance of put- 
ting one's power or influence to the service of 
others, and not seeking it just for its own sake. 
Love of power as power is what we most wish to con- 
demn in dealing with the phases of good and bad am- 
bition. Inasmuch as the desire for achievement is 
supposed more often only to apply to men, it might be 



108 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

well, on the other hand, to bring out the good side of 
this ambition as it has shown itself in woman. In 
order to do this, there is an excellent example in the 
life of the artist or great animal painter, Rosa Bon- 
heur. The teacher might sketch the career of this 
woman in some detail, telling of her methods of work, 
the course she pursued in order to perfect herself in 
her art, the patience and persistence of it all, the love 
she had for art itself and its ideals, the simplicity of 
her life, and her devotion to the one purpose before her. 
It all makes a beautiful and most effective narrative. 
A few pictures could be introduced in connection with 
the story, especially the beautiful one where she stands 
with her arm resting on the head of a calf. It would 
be well also for the boys to learn of this biography, in 
order that they may appreciate better how woman 
may likewise be capable of great achievements and win 
renown and glory, if she has the right kind of am- 
bition. 



CHAPTER XIII. 
PROCRASTINATION. 

Proverbs or Verses. 

"Procrastination is the thief of time; 
Year after year it steals till all are fled." — Young. 

"A sluggard takes a hundred steps because he would not 
take one in due time." 

"At evening the sluggard is busy." — German. 

"Go to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways and be 
wise." — Bible. 

"The sluggard makes his night until noon." 

"The sluggard's guise; loathe to go to bed and loathe to 
rise." 

"'Tis the voice of the sluggard; I hear him complain, 
'You have waked me too soon, I must slumber again.' " 

— Watts. 

"What better is a house for a sluggard rising early." 

"A slothful man never has time." — Italian. 

"Time and tide wait for no man." 

"The good time comes but once." 

"What greater crime than loss of time?" 

"Who has no time, yet waits for time, comes to a time of 
repentance." 

Dialogue. 

We shall talk today about a very big word. It is 
long and has four syllables. Yet I presume you have 
heard it a great many times. It is one of those large 
words that we become acquainted with when we are 
quite young. Our mothers use it, and our teachers. 

It describes a habit we are liable to fall into, and one 
which exasperates our elders very much. Can you 
guess what it is — a long word of four syllables, begin- 
ning with P, and suggesting a bad habit that boys 
and girls very often display. "Procrastination ?" 

Yes, and what sort of a way of doing things does it 
indicate ? Would it imply going ahead promptly about 

109 



HO A STUDY OF HABITS. 

everything? "Oh, no," you answer, "it means rather 
putting off what one has to do." 

Would you say that any person who ever puts off do- 
ing any piece of work is guilty of procrastination? 
What if there is something which I should like very 
much to do today, but which I cannot possibly attend 
to, and so I defer it until later? 

"No," you answer, "that would not be what we have 
in mind." Then what kind of putting off would imply 
such a bad habit ? "Why," you explain, "putting off 
until later something which one might really do now." 

Suppose, however, I have two pieces of work which 
I want very much to do today, but cannot do both of 
them. What if I defer the one which is very easy and 
do the difficult one today ? Would that be procrastina- 
tion? "No," you admit. 

What, then, is the difference? "Why," you con- 
tinue, "procrastination would rather mean putting off 
something which is hard, and that one would rather 
not do, and doing the easier thing first." I suspect you 
are coming nearer to the true explanation now. 

What kind of persons would you say are given to 
this habit? Lazy people, or busy people? "Oh," you 
answer, "the lazy ones, of course." 

And so you think, do you, that busy persons never 
procrastinate? What if you had a lot of things to do 
and kept yourself occupied all day doing the easy 
things, and putting off the hard work until some other 
time, you would be a busy person, would you not? 
"Yes," you hesitate. 

Then you would not be procrastinating, I suppose? 
"Oh yes," you admit. After all, you agree, do you, 
that even a busy person could have this bad habit ? 

But do you mean that all lazy people procrastinate? 
"Yes, indeed," you assert. Then we note, do we, that 
all lazy people and a good many busy people are 
guilty of this habit? 

How do you suppose it is that people fall into the 
habit of procrastinating, or putting off? Should we 
not assume that one would like to have all the hard 



A STUDY OF HABITS. Ill 

work out of the way? "Yes," you answer, "but per- 
haps one fancies that when tomorow comes it will be 
easier to do the hard work than it would be to do it 
today." 

It may be you are right. What, however, is the 
actual experience? What if you do put off the hard 
thing until tomorrow? Would you really find it any 
easier to do, than doing it right off at first? "Yes," 
you insist, "sometimes. Perhaps something may oc- 
cur which will make it easier." 

But how will it be, usually? "Why," you confess, 
"probably it will be just as hard as ever." 

But is that all? Will it not be even harder the sec- 
ond day than the first ? How do you explain the fact 
that when tomorrow comes we may feel even more dis- 
inclined to go ahead and do what we have put off? 

What is it in ourselves under such circumstances, that 
seems weaker than yesterday? "The will?" Yes. 
Somehow the will inside of us seems weaker the second 
day than the first, and that is what makes the work 
even harder to do. 

But when people really do put off until tomorrow 
what they were going to do today, do they usually at- 
tend to it when tomorrow comes ? "Oh, no," you smile 
at that. You mean, do you, that what is put off may 
never be done at all ? I am afraid you are right. 

If, for example, you put off until tomorrow some- 
thing which is rather hard to do today, and which 
you are not inclined to do, suppose the day after tomor- 
row again you have something hard to do, are you 
more or are you less disposed to put that off also? 
"There is no question about that," you confess. 

But why? "Oh," you say, "putting off becomes a 
habit." Yes, that is true, and it is a habit that follows 
some people to the very end of their lives. 

Does it make any difference to other people, how- 
ever, whether we ourselves have this habit? Will 
other people care, do you think? 

If you have the habit of procrastinating, can people 
then rely on your conduct? Can they know what 



112 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

you will do and what you will not do? "We fear 
not," you say. Then could you be trusted in the 
same way that others could be trusted who do what 
they have to do at once? 

You see, it does make a great deal of difference to 
other people. We may easily lose the confidence of 
others by falling into the habit of putting off. 

I wonder if you have ever heard a line of poetry 
about procrastination, something to do with "time" 
and a "thief." It comes from an old volume entitled 
Young's "Night Thoughts," and runs like this : 

"Procrastination is the thief of time." 
Do you detect the point of that quotation? Could 
anybody steal from time? "Yes," you say, "by tak- 
ing up our time in talking to us or interrupting us 
when we are busy, and so preventing us from doing 
something." 

Suppose I have a habit of putting off, do I accom- 
plish more, or in the end, less? Do I waste anything? 
"Why," you explain, "One wastes time, of course." 
And is that the way the habit of procrastination affects 
us? It makes one waste one's time. Hence one does 
very much less, and somehow has a shorter life, be- 
cause there is so much less accomplished. 
Points of the Lesson. 

I. That procrastination implies the habit of putting off. 

II. That it means doing the easy things first, and putting 
off the more difficult ones. 

III. That even a busy person may procrastinate. 

IV. That it is really harder to do the next day what we 
put off until tomorrow, than it would have been to do it at once. 

V. That putting off one thing until tomorrow gets us into 
the habit of putting off everything. 

VI. That this habit makes us less trusted by others. 

VII. That this habit steals our time and makes our life 
seem shorter, because we accomplish so much less than we 
should otherwise. 

Poem. 

We are but minutes — little things, 
Each one furnished with sixty wings 
With which we fly on our unseen track, 
And not a minute ever comes back. 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 113 

We are but minufes — yet each one bears 
A little burden of joys and cares. 
Patiently take the minutes of pain — 
The worst of minutes cannot remain. 

We are but minutes — when we bring 
A few of the drops from pleasure's spring, 
Taste their sweetness while we stay — 
It takes but a minute to fly away. 

We are but minutes — use us well, 
For how we are used we must one day tell; 
Who uses minutes has hours to use — 
Who loses minutes whole years must lose. 

Further Suggestions to the Teacher. — It might 
be well in this lesson to introduce anecdotes from biog- 
raphies or any history concerning misfortunes which 
have occurred through the neglect to act promptly, or 
through the "habit" of putting off. For this purpose 
even stories where the evil outcome has been very great 
would be effective. It may be worth while to give a 
shock to the minds of the young, by this means. They 
hear much about procrastination and may think of the 
evils coming from it as being of minor importance. It 
is one of those habits the hardest to deal with and the 
most difficult to overcome. In actual life sometimes 
it is conquered only through a sharp and most painful 
experience. Facts of history or biography would be 
better than mere stories. If desired, an account might 
be given, quite thrilling in its character, of the first 
ascent of the lofty peak, the Matterhorn, in the Alps. 
One can describe how the party started out with their 
guides, and with great difficulty at last reached the 
summit in triumph, after all the failures of former 
parties to win the glory of this achievement. Then it 
could be narrated how they started down the moun- 
tain, fastened together by a rope, still proud of their 
work, and thinking what glory they should win and 
how all the world would soon hear of it ; and how 
within a few steps of the summit the foot of one of the 
number slipped, causing him to fall ; how the rope 
broke with a snap, and how this man, with three 



114 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

others, fell several thousand feet down the precipice 
and lay dead on the ice and snow at the foot of the 
mountain. Then point out how one of those who had 
been in the rear and had been saved, afterwards exam- 
ined the shoes of the man who had slipped, and discov- 
ered that the rough nails the mountain climbers always 
used over there, had been worn nearly smooth on one 
foot. Hence this young fellow, a nobleman of Eng- 
land, brave and strong as he was, by procrastinating 
about having the nails fixed to his shoes, had lost his 
own life and caused the death of several others. The 
story has been told most graphically by the leader of 
the party, and it could be made quite effective as 
bringing home a lesson on the evils of procrastination. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

HABITS OF PLAY. 

Proverbs or Verses. 

"Play not with a man until you hurt him nor jest until 
you shame him." 

"An hour of play discovers more than a year of con- 
versation." 

"What is sport to the cat is death to the mouse." — German 
and Danish. 

"What is play to you is death to us." — Fable of Boy Stoning 
the Frogs. 

"Play is not for gain, but sport." — Geo. Herbert. 

"Play — that is, activity, not pleasures — will keep children 
cheerful." — Jean Paul Richter. 

"A jest driven too far brings home hate." 

"Work while you work, 
Play while you play, 
That is the way 
To be happy and gay." 

"Better lose a jest than a friend." 

"He that would jest must take a jest, 
Else to let it alone is best." 

"A day's pleasures and a year's grief." 

"A man of pleasure is a man of pains." — Young. 

"Fly the pleasure that will bite tomorrow." 

"We should play to live, not live to play." 

"What is play to the strong is death to the weak." 

"There are games which it were better to lose than to win." 
— Latin. 

"The more skillful the gambler, the worse the man." — gyrus. 

"He who hopes to win what belongs to another deserves to 
lose his own." 

"Many players lose in an hour what they cannot gain back 
in a lifetime." 

Dialogue. 

When you see boys and girls running up and down 
the street, chasing each other, moving around in all 

115 



Il6 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

sorts of ways, leaping, jumping, talking, laughing — 
what do you say they are doing? 

"Why," you exclaim, "they are at play; they are 
amusing themselves." But is there any sense in that, 
any purpose or good in it ? 

"No," you tell me, "it has no special purpose ; noth- 
ing to do with 'good/ It is just play." Yes, I know. 
But what is it done for? Why do you run and jump 
and laugh and talk, and like to go out together and 
amuse yourselves ? 

"Oh," you answer, "there is no reason. We just like 
it. It is pleasure and nothing else." But don't you 
think it is rather foolish, then, to be doing something 
that has no purpose in it, no special good in it one way 
or the other ? Don't you think one ought to be a little 
ashamed of wasting one's time in that way? 

"Well," you assert, "if we ought to be ashamed, at 
any rate we all do it." Yes, but if somebody told you 
that you ought not to play and advised you not to play 
any more, do you think you would follow his advice? 
"No," you answer, "we should go on playing just the 
same." 

After all, then, you assume, do you, that it is per- 
fectly right and just to play, to have a good time, even 
if there is no reason in it ? 

But suppose boys and girls never did anything but 
play from morning till night all the year round. Would 
it be all right? "No," you confess, "we suppose not." 

Yes, but you said it was right to play, to* amuse one's 
self, even if there was no purpose in it. Then why 
not play all the time, never do anything else? "Oh, 
well," you add, "that would be another thing ; it would 
injure us, do us harm." 

Why should it do you any harm if play is natural 
and right? "As to that," you answer, "if we played all 
the time we should not improve ourselves. We should 
never become educated." 

But you would grow up just the same; you would 
become men and women, even if you never did any- 
thing else but just play? "Yes and no," you answer. 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 117 

"A person might be grown up and yet not exactly be a 
man or a woman." 

Well, then, what would he be ? "Oh," you explain, 
"a sort of a child." You mean that a grown man or 
woman could be a child ? What sense is there in that ? 
"Why," you point out, "they would act just like chil- 
dren, and not work or be serious like grown men and 
women." Are you not serious when you play? "No, 
not exactly," you answer. Well, what are you doing ? 
"We are just amusing ourselves," you say. 

Then what do you think "being serious" implies, un- 
like just amusing one's self? You add: "It means 
thinking about tomorrow, working with some purpose 
in view, doing what we are doing now so that it shall 
have some kind of a result at some future time." 

In play, then, you think only just of the moment 
when you are playing, only of being amused, 
while "being serious" means thinking about the future, 
having some reason for what you are doing? 

Which persons are given more to play, grown people 
or children? "As to that," you say, "of course chil- 
dren play much more than grown people." And why ? 
"It comes natural," you answer. "Children care more 
about play." Then how would you feel if a grown man 
or woman were given to play just as much as children 
are? Would you think as highly of them? 

"Not by any manner of means," you tell me. But 
why not, if play is natural? "Oh," you insist, "they 
are not children." Why is it that you would rather 
despise grown persons if they did nothing else but 
play, or if they were given to play as much as chil- 
dren? 

"Well, for one thing," you continue, "if they were to 
live in that way there would be nobody to care for us 
or provide for us as children. Somebody must be seri- 
ous in order that we can live." 

But it strikes me it is rather selfish that you should 
want grown people to be serious just so that you can 
amuse yourselves and have a good time. 

"Yes," you add, "but there is more besides ; a grown 



Il8 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

person has all his education, all his experience. He has 
powers of strength which we do not have. He would 
be wasting it all, if lie did nothing else but play." 

Then you mean, do you, that if we waste our capaci- 
ties or our strength and do not use them to a purpose 
we do wrong? You feel somehow that merely think- 
ing all the time about amusing himself and nothing 
else, for a grown man would not be right, or that it 
would not be right if he did it as much as children do? 
You assume that grown people somehow ought to be 
more serious. 

What do you think play really does for a grown per- 
son ? What is the use of it all ? Let me ask you, for 
instance. Suppose you are extremely tired, after play- 
ing or working very hard indeed, tired in mind and 
body. What do you like to do ? "Rest, and do noth- 
ing more," you say ? 

Now when a grown man is tired — suppose he has 
worked very hard all day— what does he like to do 
in the evening? Does he care always to just rest and 
do nothing more? "No," you tell me, "he may like 
to amuse himself." 

Do you see, then, any purpose that play may serve 
for a grown person? If that is what he likes to do 
when he is tired, then what good may it do for him 
if he goes and amuses himself with play of some 
kind? 

"Oh," you assert, "it rests him." Yes, that is the 
whole point. When people are grown up, they want 
to play oftentimes just in order to get rested, so that 
they can work better. It is, therefore, a good thing to 
try and encourage our fathers and mothers to amuse 
themselves, have a game, or to go out in the evening 
just for the sake of getting rested. 

But does it strike you that when you play with 
all your might and main, it rests you? "No," you 
assert, "afterwards we feel tired." 

Then play evidently tires children and rests grown 
people. Now that you have found that play does some- 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 119 

thing for grown people, can you think of any purpose 
it serves for children? 

For instance, when children are romping, running, 
playing together, what effect may it have on the body ? 
What is the way, for instance, to make the body grow ; 
to make the muscles strong? "Exercise," you an- 
swer. Then it may help to develop the body or strength- 
en the muscles when you are not thinking about it. 

What is the difference usually between the plays or 
games of grown people and the plays or games of chil- 
dren? Can you name one of the amusements of 
grown people? "Chess?" you say. "True." Now 
what part of themselves are they exercising when they 
are playing at chess ; their muscles ? "Not much," you 
answer ; "rather their minds." 

But how is it when you are out playing in the street, 
having running games ; what part of yourself is very 
active ; your minds ? "Yes, to some extent," you assure 
me. But your minds more than anything else ? "No," 
you admit, "our muscles or body." 

Then with children play means rather an exercise 
of the muscles of the body, whereas with grown peo- 
ple it often implies using a certain part of their minds. 
When, however, you are at a game of any kind, what 
are you trying to do? Suppose it is baseball or some- 
thing of that kind? "Oh," you say, "we are trying 
to win the game." Trying to beat some other boy or 
some other girl? Is it that? "Yes, surely." 

But does it not strike you that doing anything of 
that kind is selfish? Are you not trying to get ahead 
of some other boy or girl ; to surpass them if you can ; 
or to keep them back if possible? Now, would this 
not be the same thing as if among grown people one 
were trying all the time to get ahead of somebody else, 
to keep him back and not let him succeed ? 

"No," you insist, "in the one instance it is only play. 
And play is not serious ; it only pertains to the imme- 
diate moment." 

You mean, do you, that in play you are not trying 



120 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

to get ahead of the other for your whole life? Well, 
if so, that is a very interesting point. 

Suppose in the struggle of earning your living you 
kept another person back by forcing yourself ahead 
of him. What do you do to him ? "Oh," you confess, 
"we injure him. Besides helping ourselves forward 
we prevent him from succeeding." 

But how is it in a game ? "Why, in that case," you 
tell me, "it is the other way. There is no injury done 
if one wins and the other loses, because it is a mere 
game." 

If play in the effort to win is not selfish, did you 
ever see a boy or girl who was selfish in play ? "Yes, 
indeed," you exclaim. 

But how is that possible when you say there is noth- 
ing selfish in trying to beat others in games ? 

"Why," you answer, "one could try to keep all the 
pleasure for one's self and not let others share in the 
game." 

Do you think, for instance, that if there was a game 
at which only four could play and five were present, 
it would be selfish for four of them to go on playing 
all the while and leave the other one out? "Yes, 
surely," you confess. 

But why? It is only play. What could you do 
and yet have your game ? "Oh," you reply, "we could 
take turns, letting the fifth person now and then join 
in and one of us step out for a while." 

But is there any other way by which people could be 
selfish in play? selfish in the game? "Yes," you an- 
swer, "they can be disagreeable." 

What do you mean by that? "Oh, they can be 
cross or out of sorts when they do not win or are not 
coming out ahead." But why is that selfish? 

"Because," you explain, "it makes the others feel 
uncomfortable; it spoils the pleasure of the game." 
You think, do you, that those who play in the right 
spirit ought to be cheerful and pleasant, even if they 
are beaten ? But is that an easy thing? "Not very," you 
admit. 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 121 

I wonder, too, whether you have ever seen boys or 
girls who, right in the middle of the game would stop, 
break it up and say, "I won't play." What did they 
do it for? "Oh," you answer, "just in order to be 
disagreeable, because they could not have their own 
way. They wanted the game run just in the manner 
they liked, whether the others wanted it that way or 
not." 

Where there are eight or ten boys and girls playing 
together, and one or two of them want it one way, and 
the others want it another way, is it right for the 
one or two to decide? "No," you insist, "that would 
be selfish, because they would be only one or two, and 
there would be so many more who preferred to have 
it the other way." Yes, there is nothing much more 
selfish than the habit of saying, "I won't play," just 
because one cannot have things exactly the way one 
wants them. 

What if there are several persons, either grown peo- 
ple or children, who talk of starting a game, and one 
of them happens to be very skillful at it and another 
very weak. How would it strike you if the first indi- 
vidual started that game merely in order to show ofr* 
or to make the unskillful person appear contemptible? 

"You think that would be rather selfish?" Yes, but 
why? It is only play, and in play you say it is all 
right to try and beat the other. "True," you add, 
"but they ought to be more evenly matched ; otherwise 
there is no real victory. It would be nothing more than 
showing ofr"." 

Have you ever noticed how persons who are really 
fond of nice games much prefer to play with those 
with whom they are quite evenly matched ? "Yes," you 
say, "that is often true." 

What do you suppose is the reason for this ? "Oh," 
you answer, "they do not feel that there is any real 
victory where they do not have to use their best skill." 

I wonder, by the way, if in a game you have ever 
seen how occasionally some person does not try to 
play well or as well as he knows how. When you are 



122 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

playing with such a person does it make any difference 
to you? "Oh, decidedly," you reply. "That would 
be selfishness on his part. If the person does not try 
his best there is no actual victory in defeating him." 

You think even in play one ought to do one's best or 
work with all one's might? You feel that one should 
not even play at play, do you ; otherwise it would strike 
you as selfish? 

But suppose, on the other hand, one did the other 
thing and played at his work, how would that seem? 
What if three or four persons were all working to- 
gether to accomplish something and one of them 
worked carelessly, just as if it did not matter much, 
dealing with it as if it were a kind of play. Would 
that seem all right ? 

"No," you insist, "that is just about as bad as being 
careless in real play; it would be selfish. It would 
be making the others do more than their share." 

But how would it be if one were just doing one's own 
work and played at it? What would you understand if 
it were said to you that a certain person always played 
at his work ? Does not one work hard at play ? 

"Oh," you insist, "there is a difference. "At real 
work a person must keep steadily at it, whether he 
likes it or not, whereas in play he may stop when he is 
tired or does not want to play any more." 

It strikes me that we have learned a great deal about 
play and found out that it has many sides both for 
grown people as well as for children. 

Points of the Lesson. 

I. That it is right to play just for the sake of play. 

II. That children are entitled to play more than grown 
people. 

III. That in play we think only of the moment. In work 
we think about the future. 

IV. That play to children is not only amusement, but exer- 
cise, as a training for the body. 

V. That play to a grown person is rest, mainly because it 
is diversion. 

VI. That children play more as exercise for the muscles, 
grown people as exercise for their minds. 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 123 

VII. That getting ahead of another person in play may not 
be selfish, because it is only play. 

VIII. That selfishness in play may consist in not sharing 
the game with others, being disagreeable or cross when one is 
beaten, insisting on one kind of a game when most of the 
others wish another kind, trying always to have one's own way 
in the game, and in many other ways. 

IX. That when we play we ought to do our best, else we are 
not fair to the others in giving them a chance to win a n 1 
victory. 

X. That we ought to play at play, but never to pi: - it 
work. 

XI. That play for adult people should not be carried so 
as to weaken their energies for the work they have to 
The best kind of games are those which are a rest and a 
diversion, and yet which may, without our thinking about it, 
improve us in one way or another all the while, by developing 
the body or the mind. 

Further Suggestions to the Teachrr: There is 
enough in this lesson for two or three sessions with 
the class. If a few points could be lodged in the mind 
with regard to play among adults as well as children 
it may be of service. We do not wish to throw a con- 
tempt upon amusements or diversions. On the other 
hand, we should like to make young people think con- 
cerning them, in considering the value of different kinds 
of play or amusement. There might be some talk con- 
cerning the Code of Honor in play. The point could 
be raised as to when it becomes mean to try and win a 
victory over an opponent. There could also be some 
discussion concerning what we understand by "fair 
play." The teacher should dwell on the phrase used 
by adult people, "foul play," as applying to very seri- 
ous matters, where real play is not involved at all. 
Show how this term arose through a defiance of the 
Code of Honor among young people in their games. 
Foul play in amusements may lead to foul play in real 
life. The subject of the "Ethics of Games" is one 
which could be discussed by young people of any age, 
or even by a class of adults. The particular topic of 
"cheating in play" we shall however reserve more es- 
pecially for a future lesson on the subject of "Cheat- 
ing." Opportunity may be offered to bring in a great 



124 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

deal of ethical instruction in the discussion, which is 
sure to arise on each of the points introduced, because 
of the natural interest in the subject on the part of the 
children. The teacher may be somewhat dubious as to 
the "intellectual" features of amusements among adults. 
The children may also be disposed to dispute this point 
and to cite the athletic sports of grown people as an 
example to the contrary. The distinction can only be 
drawn in a general way and could be passed over if de- 
sired. 



CHAPTER XV. 

SELF-DENIAL. 
Proverbs or Verses. 

"Self-denial is painful for the moment, but very agreeable 
in the end." — Jane Taylor. 

"Self-denial is the best riches." — Seneca. 
"Better give than have to give." 
"He gives double who gives unasked." 
"He that gives his heart will not deny his money." 
"He that gives to be seen will relieve none in the dark." 
"Self denial is often the sacrifice of one self-love for an- 
other." 

"Alas! this time is never the time for self-denial; it is 
always next time." 

"The worst education which teaches you self-denial is better 
than the best which teaches you everything else but that." 

Dialogue. 

You know of self-denying people. Perhaps you 
have met with self-denying boys and girls. How do 
you feel about them? Do you admire them? "Yes, 
surely," you say. 

And should you care to be like them ? "Why," you 
answer, "it may depend on what one means by self- 
denial." 

Suppose you tell me what you understand by the 
word. What comes first to your mind when it is men- 
tioned ? "Giving up," you suggest. 

You assume, do you, that if a person wanted to buy 
something which he needed very much for himself, 
and he had the money with which to purchase it ; and 

125 



125 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

then if he decided not to do it, and said he would deny 
himself, you would call that self-denial? "Not ne- 
cessarily," you reply. 

But why not ? Did he not deny himself ? He wished 
Lo buy that thing, and yet refused to gratify himself. 
"Oh, yes," you continue, "but he needed it, and perhaps 
there was no good reason why he should deny him- 
self." 

You think that if a person denies himself when there 
is no reason for it, then it would not be true self- 
denial. Is that what you imply? 

But what if a boy or girl went out to buy something 
good to eat — candy it might be— and then discovered 
that by waiting until tomorrow it would be possible to 
get three times as much for the same money, would it 
be self-denying\to wait? "No," you insist. 

But why not ? again I ask. That would be refusing 
to gratify one's self, and there would be a reason for it. 
Would you not especially admire the boy or girl who 
waited until tomorrow, in order to get three times as 
much candy? "No," you add, "not especially; that 
only means giving up some pleasure today, in order to 
have more pleasure tomorrow. It would not be doing 
good to anybody. It would all be just for one's own 
pleasure." 

If that is what you assert, we shall have to modify 
our language again. That boy or girl had a reason for 
denying himself. Yet you do not especially admire his 
conduct. You think, do you, that self-denial means 
giving up in order to do something for somebody else. 

Can you give me any example of this kind of self- 
denial. Suppose you are at play, and a number of you 
wanted to have the first turn in the game, what would 
the boy or girl who practices self-denial do? "Why," 
you say, "let one of the others have the first turn, and 
not try to take it for one's self." 

What if you wanted to eat something very much, 
but knew if you did so, it would give displeasure to 
your father or mother. How might you practise self- 
denial there. "Oh," you tell me, "one could refrain and 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 127 

not eat what one desired, in order to avoid giving pain 
to one's father or mother." 

In the one instance, then, it would be in order to give 
pleasure to another, but in the second it would be in 
order to avoid giving pain. 

What if you were enjoying yourself making a noise 
at home, and were told that your mother had a very 
severe headache, and that the noise made it worse. 
What would self-denial bid you do ? "Why," you an- 
swer, "stop making a noise." 

Suppose one were going to do something for one's 
self, but did not care very much about it, and then re- 
frained from doing it at the request of another, would 
you call that self-denial? "Not exactly," you confess. 
Well, why not? "Oh," you reply, "self-denial usually 
implies giving up something that we care for a good 
deal." You feel, do you, that such conduct usually 
comes pretty hard? 

But do you suppose that there is ever any pleasure 
in self-denial? Could one find any pleasure in giving 
up pleasure ? You fancy, do you, that it would always 
be a painful experience? "Not altogether," you say. 
"Because," you add, "there is some pleasure in giving 
pleasure to others." Yes, that is true; more perhaps 
than one realizes at first. 

But do you insist that self-denial always means giv- 
ing up something for the sake of somebody else ? What 
if a boy had some money and wanted to buy something 
nice to eat with it, and then changed his mind and con- 
cluded that he would purchase a book with which to 
improve himself. Would that be self-denial? "We 
<ire inclined to think it would," you say. 

But that would be done mainly for himself. "Oh yes," 
you answer, "but it implies giving up pleasure. And 
it is not done exactly for the sake of some other pleas- 
ure." 

What is it done for, then? "Why," you point 
out, "it is for the sake of his own improvement or in 
order to educate himcelf." 

Do you think, then, that one can deny one's self for 



128 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

the sake of one's self, and yet practice self-denial? 
Yes, I believe that when we give up pleasures in order 
to improve ourselves, it is a form of self-denial. 

What two forms of this habit have you now de- 
scribed; the one where one gives up some thing in 
order to be of service or give pleasure to another ; and 
the ofiier is what? "Oh," you tell me, "where one gives 
up a certain pleasure for the sake of improving one's 
self." 

Did you ever hear of Daniel Webster? Do you 
know what he did just after he got his education? He 
wished to go out into the world, and begin at once the 
practice of his profession. But instead of that, he went 
and taught school, in order to earn money so that his 
brother might also get an education. 

What sort of conduct was that, do you think? "Self- 
denial ?" Yes. But which form of it, should you say ? 
Was it for the sake of his own improvement? "No," 
you assure me, "it was the other kind, in order to 
render a service for another." 

Did you ever know of a boy who was anxious to fin- 
ish his studies in order to go out and play, but who 
stopped to help another before he started? Do you 
think that is ever done? "Perhaps, sometimes," you 
answer. Is it easy, do you suppose ? "No, not very," 
you confess. Would any boy or girl do> it? "No, 
indeed," you exclaim. 

But why not? All one has to do is just to wait a 
little and help the other before going out to amuse one's 
self. Why is it not easy enough to> wait ? "Oh, but it 
isn't," )'-ou insist. Then why would some boys do this 
thing, and others not? 

Does habit have anything to do with it? Would 
the boy who had not been accustomed to giving up 
be liable to display such a spirit? "We think not," 
you say. If that is true, self-denial must be a habit. 
One cannot do that sort of a thing readily, unless one 
gets into the habit of it. 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 1 29 

Points of the Lesson. 

I. That self-denial means giving up. 

II. That it means giving up only when there is some good 
reason for doing so. 

III. That the reason must not be merely giving up one pleas- 
ure in order to get another, but rather in order to render a 
service to somebody else. 

IV. That there is also another form of self-denial, where 
one gives up pleasure for the sake of one's self-improvement. 

V. That one is not liable to show self-denial unless one has 
formed the habit of it. 

Duties. 
/. We ought to practice self-denial in order to be 
able to surrender a small pleasure for the sake of a 
Higher Good. 

II. We ought to practice self-denial in order to win 
control over ourselves. 

III. We ought to practice self-denial in order that 
we may be able to do more work in the world. 

IV. We ought to practice self-denial so that we may 
be able to be of greater service to all mankind. 

V. We ought to practice self-denial because it puts 
the mind or soul in control over the body and makes 
the Highest Self the True Sovereign. 

Poem. 

"A little kingdom I possess 

Where thoughts and feeling dwell, 
And very hard the task I find 

Of governing it well; 

"For passion tempts and troubles me, 

A wayward will misleads, 
And selfishness its shadow casts 

On all my words and deeds. 

"How can I learn to rule myself, 

To be the child I should, 
Honest and brave, and never tire 

Of trying to be good? 

"How can I keep a sunny soul 

To shine, along life's way? 
How can I tune my little heart 

To sweetly sing all day? 



130 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

"I" do not ask for any crown, 

But that which all may win; 
Nor try to conquer any world 

Except the one within." 

— Louisa Alcott. 

Further Suggestions to the Teacher : The above 
poem is a rare little gem and should be treated with the 
highest respect. It is said to have been written by 
Miss Alcott when she was only thirteen years of age. 
Biography could be introduced here also. The story 
could be told of some life where a person had made 
great sacrifices in order that others might be helped on 
to success. It would perhaps be better to introduce the 
narrative of the life of some brave, self-denying 
woman, as this is a virtue which has been conspicuous 
in woman's life. But we should take care not to make 
it a "far-off" virtue, as something which we may admire 
but do not expect to practice ourselves. Pictures of 
exceptional persons showing these virtues often have 
this unfortunate effect. Yet on the other hand there 
is a certain value in presenting rare ideals, which may 
call forth the spirit of devotion on the part of the young 
and be kept there as a distant standard for their awe 
and reverence. If the teacher is not too strictly lim- 
ited in the attitude of neutrality on religious subjects, 
an excellent life for him to introduce in connection 
with self-denial on a large scale would be that of 
Father Damien and the way he gave himself up to go 
and live with the lepers in the Sandwich Islands. It 
could be told with or without the religious motives, as 
the teacher may deem best, according to the system 
adopted in the whole scheme of lessons in schools or 
classes where they are used. But it is a magnificent 
picture to put forward as a sublime example of com- 
plete self-sacrifice — all the more powerful as coming 
within recent times. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

BEING BRAVE. 
Proverbs or Verses. 

"Many are brave when the enemy flies." — Italian. 

"Some have been thought brave because they were afraid to 
run away." 

"Courage in danger is half the battle." — Plautus. 

"Courage ought to have eyes as well as arms." 

"Put off your armor and then show your courage." 

"Who hath not courage must have legs." — Italian. 

"Be sure you are right, then go ahead." — Davy Crockett. 

"A gallant man needs no drums to arouse him." 

"A man of courage never wants weapons." 

"Courage, conduct and perseverance conquer all before them." 

"I dare do all that may become a man; 
Who dares do more is none." — Shakespeare. 

"The more wit, the less courage." 

"A coward calls himself cautious, and a miser, thrifty." 

"A coward's fear may make a coward valiant." 

"Cowards die many times before their death; 
The valiant never taste death but once." — Shakespeare. 

"Many would be cowards if they had courage enough." 

"No man can answer for his courage who has never been in 
danger. ' ' — 'Rochefoucauld. 

Dialogue. 

If a person has to go through some trying experi- 
ence, perhaps having a tooth pulled or having his arm 
set if it is broken, or if he should risk hurting himself 
in doing something for another, and if it is all done 
without any outcry or display of alarm on his part, how 
would such conduct be described ? 

"As being strong," you answer. Yes. But what 
else would you call it? "Why," you say, "it would 
imply pluck or power of will." Any other way of 
speaking of it that you can suggest ? 

131 



132 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

"Oh," you tell me, "it means being brave." True. 
And what is the one word we use for that sort of 
characteristic? "Courage?" Yes, surely. 

Is it an easy thing to be brave? "No," you assert, 
"if it were an easy thing, then it would not be bravery." 
I suspect you are right. Being brave does not come 
very easy to most people. 

But does it come easier to some people than to oth- 
ers ? Or is it equally hard for everybody ? "No," you 
answer, "it depends a good deal on the person. Some 
people," you add, "can endure more than others ; they 
can suffer pain to a greater extent without flinching." 
Why is that, do you suppose ? 

"Perhaps," you explain, "because they are born that 
way. Some have more natural courage than others." 
Yes, but is that all? "No," you continue, "it also 
depends on how one has acted before." That is quite 
true. You have made a very important distinction 
there. 

Which person shows the more courage when going 
through something painful, the one to whom it comes 
easier, or the one to whom it naturally comes harder? 
It is the same act of bravery, isn't it? "Yes," you 
admit, "but there is a difference after all," you insist ; 
"the one to whom it comes harder shows the more 
bravery." 

But why? I ask. "Oh," you tell me, "he must exert 
himself more." Yes, but exert himself in what way? 
"Why, it must be an exertion of the will," you say. 

Do you think it would be possible, for instance, in 
the case of two boys or two girls, one of whom was 
naturally more courageous than the other, that it might 
happen, by and by, that the one who was less cour- 
ageous at first should, when they grow up, have more 
real courage than the other ? "Yes," you think, "that 
would be possible." 

But why so ? "Oh, it would depend on how often the 
two persons had been called upon to show bravery, 
and on how much effort they had put forth each 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 133 

Yes, it is quite true that the one naturally less brave 
might later on have more real courage than the one 
who at the outset was naturally more courageous. You 
see, it depends a good deal on one's self. 

What do we mean by physical bravery? Have you 
any idea? What does the word "physical" apply to; 
the mind, the heart, the soul? "No," you answer, "it 
applies to the body." 

Then how might we show physical courage ? "Why," 
you tell me, "by being brave when enduring pain, when 
something hurts us." 

In what way could you show bravery if you were 
undergoing pain ? What does the person without cour- 
age do on such occasions ? "Oh," you exclaim, "he 
cries, sheds tears, makes a great deal of noise, uses bad 
language, makes everybody uncomfortable." Yes, that 
is all very true. 

And how would the brave boy or brave man act? 
"Why," you say, "he would keep back the tears, not 
shout or groan or cry out and disturb everybody." 

In the first place, then, by physical bravery, you 
mean, do you, enduring pain without creating lots of 
disturbance. But do you think that under the most 
terrific pain one should never cry out? If a man, for 
example, were having his hand cut off, would you 
regard it as weak or cowardly if he groaned? "No," 
you answer, "not under those circumstances." 

But why? "Oh," you tell me, "sometimes the pain 
is so severe that one has to cry out." Yes, you are 
right. 

Then, under what circumstances would you say that 
one should control one's self, and when, on the other 
hand, would it be all right to cry out under severe 
pain? "Why," you point out, "it would depend on the 
degree of suffering. If it were something terrific, 
like having one's leg cut off, that is another matter." 

But how about the ordinary pains, headache or a 
sore finger, or those hurts everyone experiences more 
or less throughout life? What would be the real 
bravery under such trials? 



134 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

"Why," you explain, "being brave would mean try- 
ing very hard to ignore it, and not making a noise about 
it." Yes, that is a good point. But is there any other 
form of pain excepting that of the body? 

"Oh, yes," you say, "where a person has had a very 
disagreeable experience, or something unpleasant has 
occurred to him. Perhaps his feelings have been hurt, 
or he cannot do something he would like to do." 

Then how do many people act under those condi- 
tions? Do they smile and act as if they were indif- 
ferent in regard to it? "No," you assure me, "they 
scowl or use unpleasant language, or mope, or make 
themselves disagreeable to others." Yes, that is sadly 
true. 

On the other hand, what would be the real bravery 
when such things happen to us? How might a man 
or woman show courage at such times? "Why," you 
say, "one could try to act as if after all it did not 
matter very much." Yes, but suppose it did matter a 
great deal, and you could not make yourself feel that 
it was of no consequence, what then can you do in 
order to show bravery ? "As to that," you continue, "a 
man could at least try to keep it to himself." 

I wonder whether you have ever heard the word 
"whine." Have we ever talked about that word be- 
fore? What does it mean? What sort of animals 
whine? "Dogs," you answer? And do you think 
human beings ever whine ? "Perhaps they do." Well, 
in what way? 

"Why," you point out, "they may keep talking about 
how unhappy they are and how disagreeable others 
have been to them, or about all the unpleasant experi- 
ences they have had." Yes, that is true. Some people 
have a way of groaning out loud and making other 
people very unhappy, just because they may not have 
their own way, or there are unpleasant experiences 
which they must undergo. 

Suppose that you have something disagreeable to 
do, perhaps it may be an unpleasant piece of work in 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 1 35 

school, or some trying service to render for another boy 
or girl. 

Now did you ever notice when one has to do any- 
thing of this kind, that certain persons will go through 
with it, only it will take them a long while to come to 
the point. They will hold off and wait, stay back, but 
finally do it. Then there are others, who, when it must 
be done, go right ahead and have it over with. They 
are quick about it. Just as soon as they know it must 
be done, they act at once. 

Which ones show the bravery? "As to that," you 
say, "usually of course it would be those who act at 
once." Yes, you are right. Being brave means acting 
promptly and without hesitation, when we have some- 
thing painful to go through or a disagreeable task to 
perform. 

You have talked about showing physical bravery, 
and also about being brave when undergoing some 
painful personal experience. Now, let me ask you : Is 
there any other form you can think of? These two 
forms pertain to one's self, would they not? "Yes," 
you reply, "surely!" 

Then what other kind can you suggest? "Why," 
you say, "it might be where one has to do something 
brave for the sake of another." True, that is another 
form of courage. Which comes easier, do you sup- 
pose ; being brave for yourself or being brave for some- 
body else? "Oh, it would depend," you exclaim, "on 
our feelings for the person, or on what kind of a re- 
ward one is going to receive." Indeed! 

Do you assume that when a man has done something 
courageous for the sake of another, he likes to 
have people know of it? "Yes, decidedly," you say; 
"that comes natural." 

Suppose there are two acts of bravery to be per- 
formed; one where other people will know of it and 
praise you, and another where people will not know 
of it, and you will get no praise at all. 

In these cases which act would require the most 
courage, or show the most bravery? "Why," you 



I36 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

admit, "it would be where one will receive no praise, 
or where other people will not know of it." Yes, you 
are right. It is that kind of an experience which calls 
for the most courage. 

And is there anything nobler, do you think, even 
than showing bravery where people may not know 
anything about it ? Suppose you do something for an- 
other which comes very hard, and other boys and girls 
do know of it but laugh at you about it. 

"As to that," you tell me, "it may come harder to 
do something brave, when one is going to be laughed 
at on account of it." Yes, that certainly is true. It 
requires a high form of courage under those circum- 
stances. 

I wonder if you have ever heard of an old proverb 
that runs in this way: 

"A man of courage never wants weapons." 

Do you see any sense in that? Suppose that you 
have to do something for another which is disagree- 
able or which might make you laughed at, and you 
answered: "Oh, yes, I would do it if only I had 
such and such a thing to help me." How would 
this proverb apply to that experience? "Why," you 
explain, "it would mean that one wanted to have weap- 
ons." 

And would it show courage? "No," you insist, "the 
proverb says truly that a man of courage never wants 
weapons. Then what is implied by that proverb? 
"Why," you answer, "it means that if a man has true 
courage he will find a way for himself somehow or 
other. He will make his own weapons." 

Yes, I agree with you. We all know that if we could 
have just the kind of weapons we desire, it would be 
easy enough to show courage. But then would it be 
real bravery ? 

Points of the Lesson. 

I. That it is not easy always to be brave or to show courage. 

II. That the amount of courage one shows at any time may 
depend on how much courage one has shown at other times. 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 1 37 

III. That true bravery depends on strength of will and does 
not spring from a mere impulse of the moment. It is an indi- 
cation of character. 

IV. That physical courage may consist in enduring pain 
without making a "face," unless it is something very serious. 

V. That bravery of the mind is shown where one does not 
make a face over disagreeable experiences. 

VI. That the higher form of courage may consist in being 
brave while suffering for others or making sacrifices for 
others. 

VII. That the highest form of all comes in where one does 
this without expecting to have it talked about or without the 
expectation of being rewarded for it. 

Duties. 

/. We ought to be brave in enduring pain or 
trouble, because it means being strong and, having a 
strong character. 

II. We ought to show courage and be able to en- 
dure, because it is right to do so, and not for the sake 
of praise or reward. 

Poem. 

Suppose, my little lady, 

Your doll should break her head, 
Could you make it whole by crying 

Till your eyes and nose are red? 
And wouldn't it be pleasanter 

To treat it as a joke, 
And say you're glad " 'twas Dolly's, 

And not your head, that broke"? 

Suppose you're dressed for walking, 

And the rain comes pouring down; 
Will it clear off any sooner 

Because you scold and frown? 
And wouldn't it be nicer 

For you to smile than pout, 
And so make sunshine in the house 

When there is none without? 

Suppose your task, my little man, 
Is very hard to get; 
Will it make it any easier 

For you to sit and fret? 
And wouldn't it be wiser 

Than waiting, like a dunce, 



*3& A study" of Habits. 

To go to work in earnest 
And learn the thing at once ? 

Suppose that some boys have a horse, 

And some a coach and pair; 
Will it tire you less while walking 

To say, "It isn't fair"? 
And wouldn't it be nobler 

To keep your temper sweet 
And in your heart be thankful 

You can walk upon your feet? 

And suppose the world don't please you, 

Nor the way some people do; 
Do you think the whole creation 

Will be altered just for you-? 
And isn't it, my boy or girl, 

The wisest, bravest plan, 
Whatever comes or doesn't come, 

To do the best you can? 

— Phoebe Cary. 

Further Suggestions to the Teacher. — There is 
opportunity, if desired, to distinguish between courage 
in action and that of endurance and submission under 
difficulties. This, however, may be rather subtle for 
young minds and could be reserved for a series of 
lessons in a later course pertaining to "The Duties to 
One's Self." It is the minor forms of courage and 
endurance we need especially to emphasize with the 
young. They are all anxious enough to be brave in 
some crisis. But the trouble is that most persons neg- 
lect to cultivate the virtue in trifling matters. They 
forget that "whining" about the weather or what they 
have to eat or about the circumstances of their daily 
lives, is a form of cowardice. This point needs to be 
brought out in all manner of ways. We need to dis- 
associate the habit of courage from thoughts of war 
and battle and bring it down to the affairs of ordinary 
life. Emphasis should be laid upon the fact that it is «. 
virtue which girls as well as boys, women as well as 
men, may display. The notion exists that bravery is 
peculiarly a masculine virtue. But we should try to 
overthrow such a theory, which has come from con- 
necting this virtue so exclusively with warfare, and 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 1 39 

should associate it rather with the thought of strong 
character or force of will — hence making it plain that 
force of will and strong character may exist as much 
in woman as in man. We should clearly indicate that 
cowardice is a disgrace to the girl as well as to the boy, 
to the woman as well as to the man — while we may draw 
the distinction that courage does not require that one 
should defend one's self beyond one's strength or be 
foolishly daring. Woman may not have the physical 
strength of man, and therefore not be expected to 
show the same amount of physical courage. But we 
can point out that she may have the same strength of 
will or force of character — displaying this up to the 
limits of her physical capacity. If stories or anecdotes 
are introduced, it were better to connect them rather 
with the minor details of life, than to bring forward 
acts of exceptional courage in the face of great dan- 
gers or calamities. 



CHAPTER XVII. 
HABIT OF TEASING. 

Proverbs or Verses. 

"Courage is fire, bullying is smoke." 

"The bully is always a coward." 

"Good jests bite like lambs, not like dogs." 

"Jest with your equals." 

"Children have wide ears and long tongues." 

"From children, expect childish acts." 

Dialogue. 

I should like, in our discussions, to go back a little 
to the subject of play. Suppose we speak of a boy or 
girl, and say that they are given to teasing. What 
would first come to your mind? 

"Well, for instance/' you answer, "it might imply 
begging the father or mother for favors-, and going 
on begging even when the favors are refused, hoping 
by begging long enough to get the favors after all." 

Yes, that is one form of teasing. But it belongs to 
another subject, and we will not talk about that today. 

Can you suggest another kind ? "Yes," you continue, 
"there is teasing in play." What do you mean by that ? 
I ask. "Why," you explain, "it may mean worrying a 
person a little by saying things to them they do not 
quite like, or doing things to them which fret them a 
little." Is it always just a little, do you say? 

"No," you admit, "sometimes it is a good deal." 
And what do people do it for? "Well," you add, "they 
may do it just for fun." 

But do you think there is any fun in it for those 
who are being teased ? "Yes," you assert, "sometimes 
even for them there is a certain amount of pleasure 
in it." 

140 



A STUDY OF HABITS. I4I 

Which one usually gets the more pleasure out of it, 
the one who is teased or the one who teases? "As to 
that," you confess, "probably the one who does the 
teasing." 

And what may the other do sometimes ? "Oh, he may 
turn around and tease back again. " Then what is 
teasing really carried on for? You insist, "It is done 
merely as play. We do it just as we try to win a 
game." 

And when does it really cease to be play? "Why," 
you answer, "when the feelings are very much hurt, or 
tears come to the eyes, or the person shows anger, 
' gets mad,' as one says." 

But does a boy or girl ever keep up the teasing even 
to that point, and not stop after it has reached that 
stage? "Sometimes." 

And is it still play to them? Do they get just as 
much fun out of it? "No," you reply, "it may be 
something different then." What motive could there 
be for it, at such a time? "Why," you assert, "some- 
times people actually take pleasure in worrying others, 
or making them unhappy." Is that the real motive, 
do you think? 

"No," you answer, "we doubt whether that is the 
real purpose behind it. One does not tease so as to 
hurt the person very much, when it is done just for 
mere fun." But some do it, do they not? "Well," you 
suggest, "perhaps it is done so as to show their power 
over the other person." Then trying to show power 
over another person is something else than mere play, 
is it? 

And what do we sometimes call this habit of con- 
stantly worrying other persons when they cannot 
escape from it, or when it hurts them very much ? 

"Why," you say, "that is tyrannizing." Suppose a 
person should tyrannize over you, what would you 
understand by that? 

"As to that," you tell me, "it would be when some 
person much stronger than we are, is trying to make 
us do all sorts of things which we dislike and which 



H 2 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

we might be obliged to do because we are not strong 
enough to refuse." 

Note to the Teacher. — If you think advisable, you can intro- 
duce the word "bullying" at this point, showing how teasing, 
beginning as mere play, may develop into bullying as a form 
of tyrannizing on the part of the strong over the weak. 

When do you think teasing ceases to be mere play 
and becomes such tyrannizing ; is it, for example, when 
one person teases another of about the same age or the 
same strength, or is it when the one is stronger or 
older than the other? 

"Why," you explain, "as a rule there will not be 
much tyrannizing in that extreme form unless one is 
stronger than the other." Does it strike you that teas- 
ing a person who cannot help himself because he is 
weaker, is like hitting a man when he is down? Did 
you ever hear the saying: 

"If you are going to fight, fight a man of your size 
and not some one weaker than yourself?" 

Should you feel contempt for a big boy who struck 
a little boy? "Yes, surely," you exclaim. But when 
a big boy teases a little boy or a big girl teases a. little 
girl, is it not like striking them, knowing that they 
cannot strike back? 

By the way, do boys tease girls, or is it girls who 
tease boys ? "As to that," you say, "it depends on the 
boy or girl, and how old they are." 

Yes, but how is it as a rule ? "Oh," you reply, "more 
often the boy teases the girl." Why? I ask. "Per- 
haps," you add, "because it is easier to tease her, she 
minds it more, and so one gets more fun out of it." 

Is that all? Suppose it is a small boy and a very 
big girl. Then does the boy keep up the teasing? "Not 
so often," you answer. 

Why not ? "Because," you tell me, "in that case she 
can make him stop it." I ask again, therefore, why is 
it that boys more often tease girls? Is it not really 
because boys are liable to be stronger than the girls, 
and the girls are not able to resist? 

Does it strike you that teasing girls and making them 
very unhappy by this means, is like hitting a person 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 143 

when he is down, or striking a person smaller than 
one's self? 

"Yes," you continue, "but after all, one teases mainly 
for the sake of the fun and not in order to show 
tyranny." Perhaps you are right, when the teasing is 
mere play. It depends a good deal on whether you are 
doing it for play, or whether you are doing it to show 
how smart you are or how much stronger you are. 

Do you see any other motive for teasing? What 
if one boy happens to know much more than another, 
although they are of the same age, and the boy who 
knows more keeps teasing the other boy about his 
ignorance. Is it done for mere play? 

"No," you confess, "it may be done in that case in 
order to show off or appear ' smart.' " But do you 
think that people who are listening, admire the boy who 
is showing off ? "You doubt it ?" And yet he may be 
doing it just for the sake of having other persons see 
how much superior he is or how much more he knows. 
Is that a form of teasing to be admired, do you suppose ? 
"No, it is rather a mean kind," you reply. 

Do boys or girls ever tease creatures that are 
not human? "Yes," you admit, "they tease dogs and 
cats or other animals. 

What do they do it for? Why do they sometimes 
annoy dogs or cats, or like to worry them? "Well," 
you continue, "it is just mere play. Dogs may tease 
each other just the same." Yes, that is quite possible. 

But do you think there may be a point where teasing 
a dog or cat or other animal, can be almost as mean 
as teasing a human being? "Perhaps," you admit. 
When, for instance? 

"Why," you point out, "when it becomes very pain- 
ful or is like torture to the animal." Yes, I agree with 
you. When you see a boy or girl torture an animal 
just for fun, you feel somehow as if they could do the 
same thing to boys or girls smaller than themselves. It 
is like hitting a man when he is down, or striking a 
person smaller than one's self. 

Do grown people ever tease, do you suppose? "Yes, 



144 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

sometimes," you say, "we have seen them do it." Do 
they do it as much as the children ? "No, usually not," 
you answer. 

Why not ? How is it that grown people do not tease 
as much as children? "Oh," you add, "they haven't 
time for it." What if they did have the time? 

"Perhaps not even then," you say. Well, why not? 
I ask. "Because it would look unbecoming," you 
explain. "Thev would be acting as if they were chil- 
dren." 

Then teasing a good deal is what we call childish, 
is it ? But what does that mean ? "Why," you assure 
me, "it implies that it is what children naturally like 
to do as children." You think it comes natural to like 
to tease, do you? If that is true, one needs to be on 
the lookout lest it be carried too far. 

Which do you think we are more inclined to carry 
too far; the conduct most natural to us, or the habits 
we acquire with difficulty? "Oh," you confess, "it 
would be those habits that come easy to< us." Yes, 
that is true. 

We call teasing childish, because it comes natural 
to children to tease, and they are much given to carry- 
ing it too far and perhaps even being mean or unkind 
about it. It implies an important distinction, there- 
fore, whether one does it merely as play, and only so 
long as it is play, and stops at just that very point. 

Points of the Lesson. 

I. That teasing is meant as play, "just for fun." 

II. That teasing ceases to be play when it seriously hurts 
the feelings. 

III. That teasing, when ceasing to be play, becomes tyran- 
nizing or "bullying." 

IV. That teasing is tyrannizing when one is older or stronger 
than the person one teases. 

V. That boys in teasing girls are often "tyrannizing" over 
them. 

VI. That teasing animals when it hurts them is like fight- 
ing a person much smaller than one's self. 

VII. That for grown people to tease very much is to be 
"childish." 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 145 

VIII. "That teasing belongs to the habits which seem to 
come natural to us, and therefore may easily be carried too 
far." 

Further Suggestions to the Teacher. — This sub- 
ject of teasing is an embarrassing one and we may need 
to handle it with a great deal of caution. The moment 
we make these distinctions the boys and girls can use 
them as a plea or excuse. When they are teasing too 
hard they can always fall back on the assertion that 
they are doing it only as play. Yet the subject should 
be taken up, not only for the sake of the children as 
children, but in order to warn them of danger in the 
future, as the habit of teasing applies to grown people 
as well as children. People ought to make these 
distinctions. Boys and girls know pretty well when 
they are hiding behind sham excuses and when 
teasing becomes something else beside play. Un- 
der such circumstances the wisest way would be 
not to reason with them, but stop them at once. 
We might in strict ethics feel as if we ought to dis- 
courage teasing altogether as a form of conduct 
that naturally causes pain. Yet it would be useless to 
carry the lesson up to> this point. Children will tease, 
and grown people likewise. It is the same as with 
games. People will try hard to beat each other, 
although it may seem rather selfish. We must give in 
up to a certain point to the instincts of human nature, 
inasmuch as we know that nearly everybody will pursue 
this habit more or less. It is better that we should try 
to enforce some of these distinctions, so that at any 
rate when people tease, they shall draw a line some- 
where as to the extent to which it is fair to keep it up. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 
HUMILITY. 

Proverbs or Verses. 

' ' There are some who use humility to serve their pride. ' ' — 
Dunham. 

"It- is not a sign of humility to declaim against pride." 

"Humility, that low, sweet root 
From which all heavenly virtues shoot." 

"Too much humility is pride." 

"Loquacity storm? the ear, but modesty takes the heart." 

"Modesty has more charms than beauty." 

"Of their own merits, modest men are dumb." 

"When modesty has once perished, it will never revive." — 
Seneca. 

"The wisest man could ask no more of Fate, 

Than to be modest, manly and true, 

Safe from the many, honored by the few." — Lowell. 

"A man may have a just esteem of himself without being 
proud." 

"He who is puffed up with the first gale of prosperity will 
bend beneath the first blast of adversity." 

"A man never speaks of himself without loss." — Montague. 

Dialogue. 

Suppose today we talk about a good habit , one which 
has always been much esteemed when rightly under- 
stood. The word describing it will be a long one. But 
we will reduce it to something simpler by and by. I 
will write it down. There it is, "Humility." 

Have you ever heard the word before? "Oh, yes," 
you say. Then what does it imply? "Why," you tell 
me, "it means being humble." Perhaps, then, one of 
you could write down those shorter words underneath 
the long one. There it stands — "being humble." 

But we are not much nearer to the point we are 
discussing. I want to find out what you understand 

146 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 147 

by this. What if some one were to speak of a boy or 
girl, and say that they liked to show off, would that 
mean being humble? '"Not by any means," you ans- 
wer. 

But why not? I ask. When a person is acting in this 
way, for instance, what is it that he is trying to do? 
"Why," you explain, "he is trying to make people look 
at him, and watch him." But if he wanted people to 
look at other boys and girls and watch them instead of 
watching him, would that be trying to show off? "No, 
indeed," you say. 

But why not? "Because," you answer, "when one 
tries to show off, he is anxious that people should look 
at him, and not at others." 

What, then, does he care to have people look at him 
for, more than at other boys or girls? What is the 
reason for such conduct ? "Oh," you tell me, "he desires 
to have people say how much superior he is to other 
boys and girls." 

You assume, then, do you, that this is not being 
humble, or having the habit of humility? 

But when a boy or girl is anxious that other people 
should look at them, point them out, and say how 
smart they are, how much more they know than other 
boys or girls ; what persons are they really thinking of 
most of all? You or me, for example? "No," you 
say, "they are thinking about themselves." 

Yes, but in what way? Is such a person thinking 
about improving himself, forming better habits for 
himself, or blaming himself for some mistake? "No," 
you answer, "that is not it at all. It is self-admiration." 

I wonder if you have ever heard of a term or phrase 
describing this habit of thinking about one's self. Sup- 
pose I give it to you and you write it down. It is "be- 
ing self-conscious" — there are the words before you. 

Trying to "show off" means "being self-conscious" — 
that is, thinking all the time about one's self, and won- 
dering whether other people are looking at one's self, 
or talking about one's self. It implies the habit of 
comparing one's self with others and all the time think- 



I48 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

ing about the superiority of one's self to other people. 

Do you begin to see what humility means? What 
does it suggest to you now? ''Why,'' you answer, "it 
is the opposite of that" 

The opposite of what? I ask. You reply, "The 
opposite of being self-conscious, or of showing off." 

Yes, we are getting down to the point now. Only 
we must go en a little further. You have not told me 
all about it yet. 

Have you ever heard of persons who talked a great 
deal about themselves as being humble ? I wonder if you 
have learned of the famous character in a great novel, 
" 'Umble Uriah Heep." Some time in the future you 
will read the story where this character appears. 

Now this man was always talking about himself as 
being 'umble. He would say to others, "I am very 
'umble, you know." How would that strike you? Do 
you fancy he was a good example of humility ? 

"No," you exclaim, "that could not have been humil- 
ity." But why not ? Surely he ought to have known, 
himself, whether he was that kind of a man. If a 
person went around saying he was very humble, why 
should we not believe him ? 

"Because," you add, "there would not be any real 
humility in that sort of a man." But, why not? "As to 
that," you reply, "the very fact that he went on talking 
about himself, and telling how humble he was, would 
show that he was self-conscious, that he wanted to 
attract people's attention to himself." 

What is the term we apply to this sort of a person? 
Suppose one of us went around saying, "I am very 
humble," and in that way trying to make people think 
well of us, or look upon us as being superior, what 
would people call us after a while ? "A humbug ?" Yes, 
that is one very plain term. Mention another of the 
same kind by which they might nickname us? "Make- 
believes?" Yes, surely. 

But there is a longer word, and a bad one, that we 
should all hate to have thrown at us. Did you ever 
hear of the "hypocrite?" And what do you think it 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 149 

means ? "Oh," you tell me, "it implies putting on the 
outside what is not true on the inside." Yes, that just 
about describes it. 

And so the hypocrite is never a real instance of hu- 
mility. But is this a habit that we all should admire 
in other people where it really exists ? "Yes," you say, 
"if it is true or genuine." You tell me, then, that we 
all admire true humility, but that we despise the 
hypocrite. 

What if, for instance, there were a person who never 
talked about himself or tried to show off, but always 
staid in the background. Do you think that this would 
always imply humility ? "Yes ?" 

Wait a moment now. Do not be too sure. Suppose, 
for example, that he saw another person being seriously 
injured, some great harm being done to him, and he 
did not come forward and try to defend the one in 
danger, would that be humility? "No," you admit, 
"quite the contrary." 

You confess that just always keeping one's self in 
the background, and never asserting one's self, does 
not necessarily mean humility. 

We talk sometimes, you know, about certain people 
having a weak character, not being necessarily bad, 
but just "putty-like"; people who never seem to have 
any "snap" or force to them. They never do anything 
very good or very bad. Then there are others of whom 
we speak as having strong characters. They have self- 
reliance, they can take care of themselves. 

Which of these two types, do you think, might have 
the most real humility? "Why," you say, "probably we 
should see it more often in the man who has a strong 
character." True, I answer. But the person of weak 
character might not be self-conscious, or might not try 
to show off in the presence of others. Why would not 
that imply being humble? 

"As to that," you exclaim, "he might not try to 
show off, not because he has humility, but because 
he is weak, or because there is not much character to 
him." 



150 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

You assume, then, that it is only the person of 
strong character who can have the real humility. I 
will give you a saying which you can remember, 
although it includes two quite large words. It is this : 

"Humility goes with self-reliance." 

Just keep that point in mind. I ask you to remember 
that humility and strength belong together. 

Are you sure you understand now what self- 
consciousness means? "Yes," you say, "it is the op- 
posite of humility." True, but more than that. 

Tell me, for instance. Some one is walking along 
the street in the winter when the ground is slippery. 
His foot gives way, he falls down and his hat rolls off 
on the ice-covered ground. What is the first thing 
he always does after rising? 

"Why," you assure me, "he looks around to see if 
anybody has noticed him." Yes. That is just what 
most people would do. And what does that imply? 
"Being self-conscious ?" 

But why should a person at once look around ? Why 
should he care? "Oh," you say, "he cannot very well 
help it. He does not like to be laughed at." 

You can see from this illustration, plainly enough, 
what it means to be self-conscious ; although when 
anything of this kind happens to a man, it is very hard 
for him to help looking around just at that moment. 
It is pretty difficult then to show humility, so as to 
be able just to pick himself up and walk ahead without 
thinking any more of it. 

I wonder if you have ever seen any picture of humil- 
ity. Suppose we had a painting here by some great 
artist. How do you think the artist would frame the 
head of the person in the picture. Would the head 
be held erect with the eyes looking straight forward? 
"No," you tell me, "probably it would be bowed a 
little." Yes, I fancy you are right in your guess. 

Note to the Teacher: There is a picture of the head of 
the "Mater Dolorosa" which the teacher might show the chil- 
dren at this point. Although it is of "The Sorrowing 
Mother," yet it suggests this attitude of the head bowed 
in humility. 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 151 

Do you mean to say that any person of true humility 
always goes around with his head down? Is that the 
kind of person you admire? Such individuals could 
make themselves very conspicuous, and attract a great 
deal of attention to themselves. 

"No," you tell me, "we should not admire people 
who went around all the time in such an attitude." How 
then, can such a painting give a true suggestion of 
humility ? 

"Why," you point out, "it does not mean that we 
are to go around with the head down. It shows rather 
a certain feeling in the heart." You imply, do you, 
that inasmuch as the painter cannot describe the mind 
itself, he figures the head in this position in order to 
suggest the feeling inside. That is, at any rate, what I 
understand by such a picture. 

No, people of real humility do not go about walking 
with their heads down. That would be very much 
like Uriah Heep always saying, "I'm very 'umble." 

Then do you see any sense in that feeling inside of 
one's self, suggested by the bowed head? "You do 
not know?" Suppose I tell you in one sentence. It 
shows that the person feels that there is something 
superior to himself. 

Now, have we found what attitude of mind is the 
opposite of humility? "Being self-satisfied?" you sug- 
gest. True. A person of real humility does not go 
around with his head hanging down. But he always 
feels that he is not doing as much as he ought to do, 
or improving himself as much as he might have done. 
He always feels that he is behind what he aspires to be- 
come. He is never quite satisfied with himself. 

We will stop here today; because the talk about 
humility may come up again in the discussion we may 
have about another habit which you will perhaps tell 
me is also the opposite of humility. 

Points of the Lesson. 

I. That humility is the opposite of being self-conscious, of 
"showing off," or of talking about one's self. 



152 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

II. That it is in contrast with ci make-believe " or being a 
"hypocrite." 

III. That it is a feeling about one's self and not a way of 
appearing to others. 

IV. That it means that we are never altogether satisfied 
with ourselves, or with our conduct. 

V. That the truly humble person does not keep comparing 
his conduct as a whole with that of others, but rather with the 
best standard of true conduct he knows about. 

VI. That hence the humble person is always dissatisfied with 
himself and always trying to get beyond himself to something 
higher. 

Duties. 

/. We ought always to feel that there are others 
better than we are and superior to ourselves. 

II. We ought ahvays to feel that we could make 
ourselves better than we are now, and that we have to 
rise above ourselves. 

III. We ought always to have standards of con- 
duct which are above us, according to which we are 
to measure ourselves and to which we are to aspire. 

Further Suggestions to the Teacher. — ■ 
It will be seen plainly enough that this discussion con- 
nects directly with the lesson on "Pride." The one 
cannot go well without the other. If there are too 
many points in this sketch, carry over some of them 
into the next chapter. The thought especially to be 
impressed on the minds of the young is that humility 
goes with strength. This virtue has too often been 
connected with weakness, or the hanging head, as a 
virtue which nobody really respects. We shall find 
it very important to fight this notion in the minds of 
the young. We want them to admire true humility, 
and not to think of it as a mere sentiment which peo- 
ple do not honestly esteem or try to practice. It will 
be necessary, although hard, to make the children feel 
that it is an inside virtue, that the bowed-head atti- 
tude does not mean cringing or walking around in a 
weak, limp sort of a way, but implies rather the very 
opposite of thinking all the time about one's self. Do 
not introduce the word selfishness in connection with 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 1 53 

the absence of humility, as we shall associate this with 
something more definite. But self-consciousness is a 
vice easily acquired and one which every one needs 
to fight against and to be ashamed of. The great 
trouble with most people is that they are disposed to 
compare themselves with others right around them, 
instead of measuring themselves according to some 
ideal standard. It is this latter attitude we wish to 
foster in dwelling on the virtue of Humility. 



CHAPTER XIX. 
PRIDE. 

Proverbs or Verses. 

"A man may have a just esteem of himself without being 
proud." 

"A clown enriched knows neither relation or friend." — 
French. 

"A man well mounted is always proud." — French. 

"But yesterday out of the shell, today he despises the shell." 
— Turkish. 

"He that is proud eats up himself." — Shakespeare. 

"He that is on horseback no longer knows his own father." 
— Russian. 

"Peacock, look at your legs." — German. 

"Pride goeth before and shame follows after." 

"Pride goeth before destruction and an haughty spirit be- 
fore a fall." 

"Pride had rather go out of the way, than go behind." 

"Pride increaseth our enemies and putteth our friends to 
flight." 

"Pride leaves home on horseback but returns on foot." — 
German. 

"Pride loves no man and is loved by no man." 
"Pride scorns the vulgar, yet lies at its mercy." 
"Pride triumphant rears her head; 
A little while and all her power is fled." — Goldsmith. 
"The best manners are stained by the addition of pride." 
" 'Tis pride and not nature that craves much." 
"When a proud man hears another praised, he thinks him- 
self injured." 

"You a gentleman and I a gentleman, who will milk the 
cow ?" — Turkish. 

Dialogue. 

We said the last time that there was another habit, 
and a bad one, the opposite of Humility. 

Will one of you write the word down : Pride. You 
see it is short, only of five letters. But it implies a 

154 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 155 

great deal. It is used more often than "proscrastina- 
tion," and much more often than "humility." But peo- 
ple may not agree quite so much as to what the word 
really means. 

Do not be too sure about what you think of pride,— 
for you may be mistaken in your opinions. Take care 
that you are not too proud about how much you know 
of pride. 

Suppose, however, you try and tell me a little about 
what your idea would be of a proud person. 

"Why," you say, "it means that he keeps thinking 
how superior he is, how much he knows, or how much 
he can do." Yes, but how can you be sure of this? 
You cannot enter into his mind. How can you be posi- 
tive that he keeps thinking of those things ? 

"We can judge by the way he acts," you continue. 
Then how does he act? How does he look? What 
makes you convinced that a certain person is of that 
type? 

"Why," you explain, "he talks about himself. That 
is enough of itself. He is all the time saying how much 
he is capable of and repeating what he has done." 

Yes. That is one way by which pride shows itself. 
But is that all? Stop a moment now. You may be 
repeating yourself. Some time ago you used this 
same language as describing another bad habit. It was 
something about self — what? "Self-conceit," you an- 
swer. Yes. 

And do you assume that self-conceit and pride are 
the same thing? "Perhaps they are," you say. No, 
not quite the same, I must tell you. Think a while 
longer about it. A person is conceited about himself. It 
is the self, you understand — that is, the self inside of 
himself. He is conceited about what he can do, or 
how much he knows. 

But could a man be self-conceited about the clothes 
he wears? "No," you answer, "not exactly that." 

What would be the feeling, then, on his part, if a 
man talked in a loud sort of a way, or tried to attract 
people's attention, so that they should observe the qual- 



I56 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

ity of his clothes? "Oh, it would be pride," you ex- 
claim. 

Suppose, for instance, a boy had a pony or a very 
much better bicycle than other boys, and he rode his 
bicycle or pony up and down the street in order to at- 
tract attention. That would not be self-conceit ex- 
actly. But what would it be ? 

"Pride," you suggest. Yes, but in what? Would it 
be pride in himself ? "No, not quite," you would say, 
"it would be pride in his pony or bicycle." 

What, for instance, would you think of a man who 
had no knowledge, was not educated, did not read or 
travel, in fact did not have much of anything in him- 
self at all, but on the other hand had lots of money, or 
a fine house, and talked a good deal about it? "It 
would be the same pride," you answer. 

Suppose a man was very stupid, very ignorant, and 
had very bad manners, but had some well-known fam- 
ily ancestors, and acted therefore as if on that account 
he thought a great deal of himself? Once more you 
suggest "Pride." 

You say that being self-conceited implies a feeling 
about one's self on the inside. But what do people take 
pride in, especially. Is it in what is on the inside or the 
outside, do you think? "Oh, the outside," you exclaim. 
"It is in the clothes, the dress, the money, one's an- 
cestors, the display one can make." 

Yes, we are coming to the point now. But is the 
feeling of pride on the outside, just like the clothes, 
or the house, or the money? "No," you assure me, 
"that is on the inside." 

Tell me now. Plow is it with proud people? You 
said that we rather admire real humility. But do we 
like or esteem a proud man? "No," you reply, "not 
usually." But are they not pleasant company ? Would 
you not like to associate with a boy or girl who was 
very proud? "Not generally," you admit. 

But why not? They may be able to dress remarka- 
bly well, or make lots of display. Why should you not 
admire them? "Because," you answer, "there may be 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 15/ 

nothing in them especially to admire." Yes, but you 
admire their clothes, do you not? ''That may be very 
well," you tell me, "but the clothes are not the person." 

You mean, do you, that you could admire a person's 
clothes, and not the person himself? "Yes, decidedly," 
you insist. 

And is there any other reason why you would not 
quite like a proud man or a proud woman. Are they 
usually, for instance, pleasant persons to associate with? 
"No," you assert, "they are liable to be disagreeable." 

But in what way? "Why," you answer, "they are 
disagreeable because they do not care about other peo- 
ple. What they want is that we should admire them 
for their clothes or their display." 

Have you ever thought anything about the way pride 
influences a man when he gets into the habit of that 
kind of feeling? Is such a man ever ashamed of any- 
thing? "Not of anything he does himself," you say. I 
suppose that is true. 

But is he ever ashamed of anything at all? "Yes, 
of some things." Perhaps he may be ashamed of other 
people, of his old friends, for instance. 

Suppose a man inherits a large sum of money and 
then buys a fine house and begins to wear nice clothes 
and put on much display, what could make him ashamed 
of his old friends ? 

"Why," you explain, "he may feel the difference now 
between them and himself." Difference in what? I 
ask. "Oh," you add, "in the clothes and the house and 
the display." 

Why should he care? Why should he not like to 
have his old friends with him all the same, so that 
they could admire his new wealth and his new home? 
"Ah," you say, "the presence of his old friends re- 
minds other people of the fact that he too was at one 
time poor." 

I am afraid you are right. It is a very sad circum- 
stance, but true enough ! People who by accident have 
good fortune come to them and put on a lot of display, 
are often ashamed of their old friends. They don't like 



I58 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

to be reminded of the fact that they were once in very 
plain circumstances. 

But don't you think that is rather a mean feeling? 
Would it not be a shame that one really ought to be 
ashamed of? 

What would you say of a boy or girl who had a 
father and mother with little or no education, but who 
had been helped and educated through great sacrifice 
on their part, and then as he grows older and suc- 
ceeds in the world, begins to be ashamed of his poor 
father and mother. What kind of a feeling would that 
be? "Pride," you say. Yes, that is just what it 
would be, pride. 

But does it not strike you as something positively 
awful for a boy or girl in that way to be ashamed of 
their father and mother, who made such sacrifices for 
their children ? 

Why do you suppose that people ever do have that 
feeling? How is it that a man or woman could some- 
times display such a wicked shame for their father and 
mother ? What reason would they have for not liking 
to have their parents live at home with them, for ex- 
ample ? 

You answer, "It would remind other people of their 
lowly start in life, of the fact that they were poor 
when they were young and did not have a fine house 
or plenty of money." 

You assume, then, that pride can have a certain very 
bad influence on a man's feelings, or a man's character. 
I certainly think so. 

I wonder if you have ever heard an old proverb 
which says: 

"Pride cometh before a fall?" 

Can you see the meaning there ? What does it sug- 
gest to you ? Suppose a man had been very proud and 
something should happen to him, so that people began 
to quote that old proverb concerning him, what would 
it bring to your mind ? 

"It would suggest," you tell me, "that probably he 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 1 59 

had lost his money or his beautiful house; that some- 
thing had occurred which had taken away what he took 
pride in, and that this had given him a fall." 

But how is it that such a proverb ever came into ex- 
istence, do you suppose? Can you see any reason for 
it? "Yes," you assure me, "perhaps there have been 
proud people who have had a fall, and in that way per- 
sons began to associate pride and a fall together." 

But is there any circumstance which might some- 
times bring proud people to a fall, more than other 
kind of people? Take, for instance, two persons, a 
man of genuine humility and a proud man, both of 
whom had been very successful, and had plenty of 
opportunity for display and a great deal of money. 
Which one, do you think, would be the more likely to 
have a fall some time? "The proud man," you sug- 
gest. 

Yes, but why? What is it that a proud man takes 
pride in ? Outside things especially, or inside things ? 
"Oh, outside things, of course," you exclaim. Yes, that 
is what we have already said. 

Then do you think that such a man would come to 
rely on those outside things and fancy that he could 
always depend upon them to save him in any difficulty ? 

You told me in a previous lesson that the humble 
person carried his head low. You did not mean that, 
literally ; only you implied that was the way such a per- 
son felt. It showed his spirit. How would it be on 
the other hand with a proud man? How would he 
carry his head? "Oh," you tell me, "he would hold 
his head high." Yes, that is true. But what would 
that mean? 

"Why," you explain, "it would imply that he thinks 
he is all right as he is ; that his property or his display 
will be sufficient, and that he can rely on that all the 
while." 

You see that pride might nourish a false reliance, 
because it would be a reliance on outside things. Hence 
he would not go on improving himself or taking care 
about the future. The result is that if a fall should 



l6o A STUDY OF HABITS. 

come he might lose everything. Yes, that proverb is 
true.. The proud man is much more liable to a fall than 
the man of real humility. 

Perhaps you would like to learn another proverb 
with regard to pride. It is a saying which means a 
great deal and you will find it worth your while to 
know it by heart. It reads like this : 

"Pride goeth before destruction and an haughty spirit 
before a fall." 

Now just one other point. Let us compare pride 
and humiiity once more. 

When a proud man does a good deed, for instance, 
or when he performs his duty, for instance, what will 
he be thinking of ? "Oh," you say, "he will be thinking 
about himself or how people will admire him." Yes, 
that it true. 

But how will it be with the man of real humility? 
Would he be all the time thinking of what people might 
say? "No," you add, "he would simply be thinking of 
the duty he had to perform." 

Yes, you are right. Suppose now we go back and 
form our definition of humility. What if we should 
put it in this way : 

"Humility means doing one's duty because it is one's 
duty, without being self-conscious or thinking what 
other people will say." 

Then for pride suppose we add : 

"Pride implies doing everything with a thought of 
the display or show it v/ill make." 

Points of the Lesson. 

I. That the proud man is inclined to talk about himself. 

II. That pride has to do with what is on the outside, the 
show one can make in the presence of others. 

III. That proud people are usually disagreeable, because 
they think only of themselves. 

IV. That pride may make a person ashamed of his friends or 
even of his father or mother. 

V. That pride weakens one's self-reliance, because it leads a 
peisoii to depend on outside show or display. 

VI. Thnt the proud man carries his head high, and he is 
liable to have a fall. 



A STUDY OF HABITS. l6l 

Poem. 

Down in a green and shady bed 

A modest violet grew; 
Its stalk was bent, it hung its head, 

As if to hide from view. 

And yet it was a lovely flower, 

Its color bright and fair; 
It might have graced a rosy bower, 

Instead of hiding there. 

Yet there it was content to bloom, 

In modest tints arrayed, 
And there it spreads its sweet perfume 

Within the silent shade. 

Then let me to the valley go 

This pretty flower to see, 
That I may also learn to grow 

In sweet humility. 

— Jane Taylor. 

Further Suggestions to the Teacher. — This 
lesson should certainly give opportunity for 
stories of one kind or another. It is not necessary that 
they should come from biography or history. Anecdotes 
concerning sham display could be introduced. A pic- 
ture of the peacock could be presented to the class. 
Throw a contempt into the words used in describing 
how people show pride, by such terms as "strutting/' 
"crowing." We have not undertaken to deal with the 
more subtle form of pride, which is perhaps also in- 
volved in the disposition of self-conceit, where a per- 
son may hold himself indifferent to the opinion of oth- 
ers. Younger children would not catch on to this point. 
Such a character as that of Grandcourt in George El- 
iot's "Daniel Deronda" is an illustration of the very 
quintessence of pride. But it is of the kind which is less 
often seen and against which it is less necessary to 
fight. What we need to do is to attack "showiness," as 
one of the most conspicuous vices of the present time ; 
the disposition to try and hold a position before the 
world by means of what one can exhibit on the outside 
rather than by means of what one has within one's self. 



CHAPTER XX. 
FRUGALITY. 

Proverbs or Verses. 

"Frugality is an estate alone." 

"Frugality when all is spent comes too late."— Seneca. 

"After one that earns comes one that wastes." 

"To save at the tap and waste at the bunghole." 

"To burn out a candle in search of a pin." 

"He builds cages fit for oxen to keep his birds in." 

"He that runs out by extravagance must retrieve by par- 
simony." 

"The world has not yet learned the riches of frugality." — 
Cicero. 

"Always to be sparing is always to be in want." 

"Better spare at the brim than at the bottom." 

"Better spare than ill spent." 

"He that spares when he is young may spend when he is 
old." 

"He who spends more than he should, shall not have to 
spare when he would." 

"A work ill done must be twice done." 

' ' There is nothing more precious than time and nothing 
more prodigally wasted." 

"They that make the best use of their time have none to 
spare." 

Dialogue. 

Do you remember a talk we had about a habit con- 
nected more especially with money? "Oh, about being 
saving," you say. Yes, that was it. 

But we did not discuss another side of that subject 
not connected with money at all. Do you see how, for 
instance, one could be saving of anything else besides 
money? "Yes," you tell me, "that might be possible. 
Of course, one could save almost anything." 

How about time, for example? Do you see how one 
could be saving in the matter of time? "Yes." Do 
you mean that one could get more than twenty- four 

162 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 163 

hours in a day, or make the sun stand still and wait 
awhile for you ? Can you put time in a bank ? 

"No," you smile, "but we can easily waste time, just 
as we waste money." But how? I ask. "Why," you 
explain, "we might do a little of this and a little of 
that or a little of the other thing in the course of the 
morning, and not finish up anything." 

Yes, but that is work, just the same. You would be 
filling up the time. Where does the waste come in? 
"Oh," you point out, "if we went to work and finished 
up a thing, instead of doing a little of it every now and 
then, we could do it better and more quickly." 

Do you believe, by doing one thing at a time, and 
doing it up completely, that in this way at the end of 
the week you could accomplish a great deal more 
than if you do a little at many things each day ? 

"Certainly," you insist, "in that way one could finish 
up a great deal more." You mean, then, that by saving 
time, you can do more in a given time, or accomplish 
more in a week, by one way of working than by an- 
other? And so it is possible, is it, to be "thrifty" in 
regard to time as well as in regard to money? 

Do I understand you, for instance, to say that one 
could be very saving of money, keep half of every 
dollar one earned, and yet not have as much at the 
end as another person who might be less saving of his 
money, but who used his time to better advantage? 
"True," you assert, "that might be possible." If so, 
there is more than one form of thrift. 

Can you see further how a man might be very saving 
in these two ways and yet not prosper as well as an- 
other person less saving in this manner and more 
saving in other directions ? 

"Yes," you insist, "there are any number of other 
ways." Well, in regard to what, besides time and 
money? "Oh," you say, "in regard to our habits at 
home, not being wasteful about what we eat and drink, 
or in regard to our clothes or our furniture." 

You think, then, it might be possible in the case of 
two families equally saving in time and money, and 



164 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

living on the same amount of money in the year, that 
one family could have a much prettier home and better 
things to eat, and better clothes, than another ? 

"Yes," you assure me, "that does happen." Then 
how will you explain it? Illustrate by the table and 
what we eat. "Why," you continue, "one might be 
careful about not being wasteful in food, ordering just 
enough and not too much, or saving what is left over 
and using it for other purposes." 

True, there is no doubt about that. The difference 
between the tables of two families may all turn on that 
one point about not being wasteful in the kitchen. In 
such a simple matter, for instance, as paring potatoes, 
some persons will waste half the potato. They may not 
think about it. But the consequences are plain enough. 

In the same way, for example, how could one be 
thrifty in regard to one's clothes ? You see, one might 
be very saving in money and time, and yet scarcely 
ever have any nice clothes at all, while another person 
on the same income will have plenty of such nice 
things. What makes the difference? 

"Well," you explain, "to begin with, one can take 
care about keeping one's clothes clean, brush them 
often, so that they shall not get injured or begin to 
look shabby." 

You think, then, that with clothing after it begins 
to look a little bit shabby, we may find it much harder 
to keep it looking nice than if we had begun at the 
start? 

Have you ever noticed how some men are careful in 
rainy weather to turn up their trousers, and how other 
men neglect it? Which one will have the shabby 
trousers sooner than the other ? 

"Oh, the one that is careless," you say, "and fails 
to turn up his trousers." 

And how about mending, or keeping one's clothes 
mended? Is there any way of being saving there? 
"Yes," you point out, "one can begin by having the 
mending done at once, as soon as need for it is ob- 
served, before the need becomes great." 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 1 65 

Further, have you ever noticed how two families 
will have a great difference in their gas bills, or in 
the amount of coal oil they use, and yet both perhaps 
have an equal amount of light? 

"Why, yes," you say, "in one case the people of the 
family are careful to turn out the lights when they are 
not needed." And so there is a possibility of being 
saving with regard to light, as well as with regard to 
food and clothing? 

Do you ever observe in the same way how certain 
people are careful with their furniture, so as not to 
injure it? Just think what a difference it makes in a 
household when a person is thoughtful about wiping 
his shoes at the door; what difference it may make in 
the long run in the amount of money saved in the 
house. 

It may strike you as odd that thrift should apply to 
keeping one's shoes clean. Yet it seems to have some 
meaning there, nevertheless. 

Have you ever seen a huge cake of ice lying at the 
kitchen doors of certain people's houses? "Yes," you 
reply, "the ice man has brought it and left it there for 
them." 

But why is it there ? Why is it not in the ice-chest ? 
"Oh, they may be careless about taking it in at once," 
you explain. But nevertheless the ice is melting away, 
and you may hear such families talking about being 
poor and always wishing they had more money. 

How about boys and girls in school ? Did you ever 
notice any contrast there in the habits of saving? How 
about the school-books ? Do all such books look alike 
after being used the same length of time? Will they 
last just as long? "Not by any means," you reply. 

Why not? The books were just alike at the begin- 
ning, were they not? "Oh, it is the way some boys 
and girls slam their books about or injure them, or the 
way others are careful of them." 

And do you notice how some boys and girls will use 
a great many more pencils and more writing paper 
than others? "Yes," you add, "but that may not mat- 



1 66 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

ter. Paper and pencils do not cost very much. They 
are cheap now." 

That is all very true. But if one is wasteful with 
paper and pencils, how about the habit of being saving? 
"Well," you admit, "perhaps it would encourage us to 
fall into a bad habit." 

Let me ask you another question. Do you suppose 
that every boy and girl in our city who has received 
the same pocket money at the beginning of the week 
could tell at the end of the week exactly what he or she 
had spent it for, or at the end of the month? "Not 
all of them," you confess. 

But how about grown men and women? Do you 
think they always know just what they have spent 
their money for? "At any rate," you add, "they know 
how much they have spent, because they know what 
wages or salary they receive." 

But that is not my point. Do they know what they 
have spent it for? "Some of them do'," you insist. But 
how do they know it? "Why," you say, "they put it 
down. They keep accounts." 

Do you suppose that if a man had not been accus- 
tomed to keep accounts for a number of years, and then 
began to do it for a time, it would make any difference 
in the way he spent his money? "Yes," you say, "he 
would know, then, the whole amount of what he had 
spent for some one thing, and begin to see that he 
was laying out too much money for one object and too 
little for another." Certainly you are right. Beyond 
any doubt, keeping accounts is a good method of en- 
couraging thrift. 

I wonder if you have ever heard a proverb of four 
words connected with this subject. I will give it and 
you may write it down. Here it stands : 

"Waste not, want not." 

Do you see any sense in that? 

"Yes," you say, "it means that if we are careful 
about not being wasteful, we shall possess more, and 
therefore not be so much in want, not be so needy." 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 1 67 

And so it turns out, does it, that being saving applies 
just as much to looking out about not being wasteful, 
on the one side, as it does about putting by and saving 
one's money, on the other. 

Points of the Lesson. 

I. That one can be saving of time as well as of material 
things, by getting more into the time or not wasting one's 
time over trifles. 

II. That one can be saving by not being wasteful about 
small things — keeping what is left over, for a future time; 
and hence cultivating frugality. 

III. That one can be saving or frugal in the care one takes 
of one's clothes or of one's books or of one's tools. 

IV. That one can be saving in the home by being frugal in 
the use of light and coal and not wasting them unnecessarily; 
or in the care one takes not to injure one's home. 

V. That it helps to make one frugal by keeping accounts 
as to the way one spends one's money, in watching how one 
may waste it on trifles. 

VI. That frugality begins in avoiding wastefulness with 
regard to what one has already, and not merely in saving up 
what one may get after a while. 

Poem. 

The sunshine is a glorious thing, 

That comes alike to all, 
Lighting the poor man's lowly cot, 

The rich man's painted hall. 

The moonlight is a gentle thing; 

It through the window gleams 
Upon the snowy pillow where 

The happy infant dreams. 

It shines upon the fisher's boat 

Out on the lonely sea, 
Or where the little lambkins lie 

Beneath the old oak tree. 

The dewdrops on the summer morn 

Sparkle upon the grass; 
And happy children brush them off, 

Who through the meadows pass. 

There are no gems in monarch's crowns 

More beautiful than they; 
And yet we scarcely notice them, 

Brt tread them off in play. — Anonymous. 



1 68 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

Further Suggestions to the Teacher: This 
may be a dry subject to young people, and 
we may have to exercise much ingenuity in order to 
bring out the points and make the theme at- 
tractive. The lesson in a certain way is a 
continuation of the one on "Being Saving." 
But, whereas the latter topic naturally dealt more with 
preserving or accumulating what one gets, this further 
discussion dwells more on the habit of wastefulness, in 
not being careful about what one already possesses. 
The little poem above may not seem to have much con- 
nection with the lesson. But it could be introduced 
as a diversion and also for the purpose of showing how 
one may be frugal in getting pleasure out of small 
things and not wasting minor opportunities for hap- 
piness. This would be an aspect of frugality not often 
dwelt upon. But it could come in here with some point. 
Many of these topics must more or less overlap. But it 
is often better to introduce the old subject under a new 
name, where there are many thoughts to be brought 
out concerning it. The methods for illustrating these 
lessons depend somewhat on the character of the chil- 
dren, their age, whether they are boys or girls, and 
their condition in life. It might be well to add to 
the lesson some talk about being "close." There is 
also a danger from this side, and they should be warned 
against it, although it is a danger which occurs less 
often than the other from being wasteful. They can 
be told of persons who were so exceedingly careful 
about being wasteful that when they could afford to 
have more, they were afraid to risk it. In this way, for 
instance, some people will go on doing hand work in- 
stead of using machinery, because it seems to them 
extravagant to spend money on machinery. In the 
long run this exaggerated form of saving could be the 
worst kind of wastefulness. In the same way people 
will injure their eyes by not having enough light. Or 
they will not allow themselves enough light for their 
pleasure, although it is a very simple and honest form of 
pleasure. But they shrink from this, because they have 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 1 69 

long had the habit of being very saving in regard to 
it. The exaggerated forms of saving on the part of 
people who do not need to cultivate such habits later 
in life, are very pathetic; and it is just as well that 
illustrations of this should also be told to the children, 
although with less emphasis than on the other kind. 
On the matter of clothing a great deal might be said 
with regard to wastefulness. This is a point that could 
be especially brought to the attention of the girls. Some- 
thing could be said about the unhappiness in homes, 
owing to the wastefulness in regard to dress on the 
part of mothers and daughters. 



CHAPTER XXL 
HABITS OF STUDY. 

Proverbs or Verses. 

"John has been in school to learn to be a fool." — French. 
"A little knowledge is a dangerous thing." 
"He that imagines he hath knowledge enough hath none." 
"He that knows least commonly presumes most." 
"He who knows little is confident in everything." 
"He who knows nothing never doubts." 
"He who thinks he knows the most knows the least." 
"Do the head-work before the hand-work." 
"Work first and then rest." — Buskin. 
"Read and you will know." 

"Reading rnaketh a full man, conversation a ready man, 
and writing an exact man." — Lord Bacon. 

Dialogue. 

Do you like to study? Tell me now frankly just 
how you feel about it. "Well, some," you answer. 
Yes, but what I wish to know is whether you really 
enjoy it. 

"Why," you say, "we like to study some things." 

And what do you mean by that? I ask. "Oh," you 
assert, "certain studies are interesting and others are 
very tiresome." 

And what studies do you like most? Suppose you 
tell me. 

Note to the Teacher: At this point spend five or ten 
minutes with the children getting them to name over their 
studies and state the ones they like most and the ones they 
like least, or the ones they most dislike. If possible, in- 
duce them to give their reasons for their likes and dislikes. 
With a pencil in hand write down on a piece of paper the 
answers from each of the members of the class on this sub- 
ject, no matter how long a time it takes. 

But now that you have told me your feelings con- 
no 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 171 

cerning your studies, do you think we all agree as to 
the ones which give us the most pleasure ? 

"No," you reply, "evidently not, judging from the 
answers which have been given." Then you assume, 
do you, that some persons like one class of studies and 
others another class ? 

But do you really ever enjoy study as much as you 
enjoy play ? You hesitate, I see. Answer me now hon- 
estly. "No," you say, "really never." 

That is just what I suspected. Can you explain 
why? "Oh," you continue, "study is work!' True; but 
do you not work in your play? Do you not have to 
work hard there? 

"Yes," you answer, "but it is not quite the same ; we 
like it so much. We do not know that we are working 
at the time we are playing." 

Then what is the reason why you prefer play to 
study or work ? "As to that," you assure me, "when 
we are at play we can do as we please. We do not 
have to obey rules or stick to one thing any longer than 
we care to do so." 

And you are convinced that in study one cannot be 
doing just what one pleases? And so you feel that 
study means work, and play means doing as you please. 

But is there any difference in boys and girls in this 
matter? Do they all equally dislike studies? How is 
it with the boys and girls you know ? Are they all just 
the same in this matter? 

"No," you confess, "there is a difference." Well, 
what kind? "Why," you point out, "some boys or 
girls seem to take more to study than others. They 
seem to enjoy it more, or to dislike it less." 

Why is it that some boys and girls like to study more 
than others ? "Well," you explain, "it is their nature. 
They are made that way." But do you think that is 
the only reason ? Do you suppose that boys and girls 
ever begin by disliking a study and then come by and 
by to like it quite a good deal ? "Yes," you admit, "that 
could happen." 

And what is the cause for that? "Oh," you add, 



IJ2 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

"they may become more interested in the subject/' 
But is that the only explanation ? 

"Perhaps," you say, "they kept on studying it so 
hard, worked at it so long, that by and by they came to 
like it." You mean, do you, that one really makes one's 
self like it, in that way ? 

Do you think for boys and girls as a rule, that study 
comes naturally ; or that usually if one comes to like 
it, it must be a sort of habit? "Why," you tell me, 
"after all, it must become a habit." 

And what shall we call this habit, then? Can you 
think of a name for it? Being what, for instance? 
"Why," you suggest, "being studious." 

Now you have told me that this was not an easy 
habit to acquire ; that it is one which comes very hard — 
"goes against the grain," as we say. 

With what kind of studies can we most easily acquire 
this habit of being studious ; with those we like the 
most or with those we like the least? "Oh," you ex- 
claim, "it is with the studies that we like the most." 

It comes harder, does it, to get the habit of being 
studious with subjects we do not care about? 

Do you think that a person might thoroughly dislike 
a subject at first, and by and by force himself to like 
it ? "You think not." Well, now I can tell you from 
the experience of older persons. Sometimes boys and 
girls begin with disliking mathematics, arithmetic or 
algebra or geometry, and by and by they come to enjoy 
the subject immensely. 

Do you believe that our likes or dislikes should guide 
us or regulate us in the studious habits we ought to 
form? "Why, yes," you say, "we should accomplish 
more, if we cultivate those subjects that we are fond 
of." 

Have you ever observed that where a thing comes 
easy to a person, somehow he never gets it as thor- 
oughly or learns it as well as when it comes hard? 
"True," you admit, "that sometimes happens." 

Is is always, then, of advantage that the subject we 
study should be easy for us, or that we should like it ? 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 173 

Might we not be careless and never master that sub- 
ject thoroughly? Fancy what it would mean if we 
neglected those subjects we dislike, before we know 
much about their value to us in the future ! 

You are right. Habits of study come hard. But 
which come harder to acquire, do you think ; habits in 
regard to the body, as, for instance, training your mus- 
cles to do a certain thing; or habits of the mind, like 
study ? "Oh," you assert, "surely habits of the mind." 

But why ? Suppose you train your muscles in order 
to play a game well. Why should that be easier than 
training your mind for hard work in the future ? 

"Ah, but," you explain, "in training the muscles for 
a game there is a certain amount of play in it." Yes, 
I suspect you are right. And so it is harder to train the 
mind into studious habits, because there is less play 
about it. 

Have you ever thought what is the main point about 
being studious ; what one special form of effort we have 
to make? What is it? Now think hard. "Oh," you 
say, "we must sit still and work." Yes, but that is not 
the point. We are talking about the mind now. Does 
the mind run around just like the body? You smile at 
that. 

Yes, but I ask you seriously. What do I mean by 
that, do yoa suppose? "Why," you suggest, "perhaps 
it means where the mind runs off thinking about many 
things, jumping around from one subject to another." 

Now, do you begin to see what is the chief effort we 
must make in cultivating habits of study; sitting still 
with what ? "Oh, with the mind," you say. 

Yes, that is the term I want, sitting still with the 
mind. Can you find another way of describing this; 
sticking to what, for example? "Sticking to one sub- 
ject or one point." Yes. You see the mind likes to 
run and jump and leap, just like the body, and it is 
hard to make it keep still. 

What is the word your teachers use sometimes ? Can 
you think of it, — when they want to make you study 
closely? "Attention?" Yes. 



174 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

Hence, as you have said, the chief thing about being 
studious is to acquire the power of attending to one 
subject. Does this mean attending to one subject for 
two or three minutes ? "No," you answer. Well, how 
long? "Oh, for quite a while," you say. 

Being studious evidently implies being able to hold 
the mind on to one subject for a long time. By the 
way, have you ever seen boys or girls who are always 
changing around in their lesson books on their desks, 
reading or studying three or four minutes in one and 
then three or four minutes in another? 

Now suppose a boy or girl were to do that right 
along, and to keep it up through the whole school time, 
they would still have the habit of being studious, would 
they not? 

"No," you hesitate, "you doubt it." But why? They 
have been studying all the while. "Yes," you add, "but 
they have not been sticking to one subject." 

One last point with regard to the habit of being stu- 
dious. Why should we care to acquire this habit? "Oh," 
you answer, "in order to be able to learn our lessons 
in school." But is that all ? 

Let me ask you further. Suppose you had this habit 
in school and were to lose it entirely when you are 
grown up. Would it make any difference ? Do grown 
people ever have to study ? 

"Why," you assert, "it depends on the kind of work 
they do." What sort, for instance, would not require 
study? "Oh," you tell me, "simple work, the common 
kind." But now what kind of work would you rather 
do ? Would you rather be a day-laborer, shovel earth, 
because it is simple and easy, or would you rather 
have a work to do that would go on improving you all 
your life? 

"Well," you answer, "perhaps we should rather do 
the work that would improve us." Yes, but in that 
kind of work you might have to study just as you 
study in school, only in another way? 

I wonder if you have ever seen persons, grown-up 
men and women, who never can do any sort of study 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 175 

work, who never can sit down to read anything serious 
for a half-hour at a time. What is the trouble with 
such persons? 

"Why," you explain, "one must be 'studious' to do 
that sort of thing, and they have not acquired that 
habit." Why do they not undertake to cultivate it? 
"Because," you answer, "it is too late, one must ac- 
quire that habit of being studious in boyhood or girl- 
hood." 

Then what form of work do you think those boys 
and girls who never study hard, fall back on when they 
get older; the higher kind, or the poorer, cheaper 
kind? "Why," you suggest, "probably they must fall 
back on the poorer, cheaper kind." Yes, you are right. 

You see, the habit of being studious perhaps decides 
what kind of work we shall do all our lives, what sort 
of a position we shall occupy, as well as what we shall 
learn now. Hence the habit of being studious, after 
all, may be of great importance. 

Points of the Lesson. 

I. That study means work, and does not usually come nat- 
ural to us. 

II. That one can mike one's self like a study sometimes by 
keeping at it long enough. 

III. That the secret of acquiring studious habits is in 
"making the mind sit still," or in cultivating attention. 

IV. That we must not judge of our studies by the way 
we like or dislike them at the start. 

V. That grown people may have to study as much, if not 
more, than children. 

VI. Thit what we call the higher occupations for grown 
people, usually require a great deal of study, while those of 
the more common kind in the use of spade or shovel require 
the least use of the mind. 

VII. That the habits of study we acquire, may determine 
whether we take to one of the higher occupations or whether 
we are left to one of the lower kind. 

VIII. That if we neglect mind- work when we are young, we 
must resort to the other kind of work when we are grown 
up. 

IX. That success in the occupations where the mind is con- 
cerned, will depend a great deal on how one acquires the 
habit of study in youth, and how far one is able to make 
one's self like study. 



176 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

Duties. 

/. We ought to try and make ourselves like to study, 
because in studying we are using the higher part of our- 
selves. 

II. We ought to make ourselves like those studies 
which will do us the most good in the end. 

III. We^ ought to compel the mind to work, until we 
come to like it. 

Poem. 

You'll not learn your lesson by crying, my man, 
You'll never come at it by crying, my man; 

Not a word can you spy 

For the tear in your eye; 
Then set your heart to it, for surely you can. 

If you like your lesson, it's sure to like you, 
The words then so glibly would jump into view; 

Each one to its place 

All the others would chase, 
Till the laddie would wonder how clever he grew 

You'll cry till you make yourself stupid and blind, 
And then not a word can you keep in your mind ; 

But cheer up your heart, 

And you'll soon have your part, 
For all things grow easy when bairns are inclined. 

— Alexander Smart. 

Further Suggestions to the Teacher: Here 
surely is the opportunity for a biography. One might 
introduce something of the story of a life like that of 
Louis Agassiz. It is an inspiring narrative and one 
which can be made most interesting to young people. 
Emphasis could be laid on his early career and how he 
threw his whole soul and being into study; how his 
whole life from start to finish was of this kind. One 
can point out the way in which he compelled himself 
to work and the devotion with which he could keep on 
at one subject until he had mastered it. There is much 
which is unusually picturesque and striking in the life 
of Agassiz, to young and old alike. One could read 
extracts from his letters, or give account of his class- 
room methods, in the way he made his students work. 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 1 77 

Something could be brought in concerning his persist- 
ence in getting knowledge under difficulties ; as, for 
instance, in the story of the way he acquired his knowl- 
edge of ice and glaciers in Switzerland. The whole 
lesson might be given over with advantage to such a 
biography, and it could be held up as an inspiration to 
the young. One must, of course, be careful in not 
fostering the idea that the professions are the only high 
occupations, as if all young people should aspire to be- 
come lawyers or teachers or physicians or writers of 
books. It can be shown how the necessity for study 
applies to a much wider range of occupations. Em- 
phasis could be laid on the fact that use of the mind 
becomes very important in all labor which is above that 
of the spade or shovel in digging ditches or cleaning 
the streets. The teacher can dwell on the fact that the 
one chance by which a man may rise into more ad- 
vanced occupations will depend on the facility with 
which he uses his mind, or the capacity he has ac- 
quired for concentrated effort. We do not wish to 
have study appear as merely committing to memory 
facts out of books or having lessons in school. This 
would give a false impression. We should rather iden- 
tify the fact of study with the active, concentrated use 
of the mind in all the many ways where a final pur- 
pose is before us. It could be pointed out, therefore, how 
the lawyer studies, the business man likewise, the book- 
keeper, the office clerk. Wherever there is a head bent 
down over the desk, it means "study." Elevate this 
word therefore in the minds of the young people, from 
the usual conception of it as being something which 
only children have to do in school, and connect it in 
their minds with the kind of brain-wor 1 ' which the 
more educated people have to do all their lives. 



CHAPTER XXII. 

EXAGGERATION. 

Proverbs or Verses. 

"Exaggeration is to paint a snake and to add legs." — 
Chinese Proverb. 

"Exaggeration is a blood relation to Falsehood." 
"We weaken what we exaggerate." — La Harpe. 

"Behold what a great matter a little fire kindleth." — St. 
Paul. 

"A man may say too much even on the best of subjects." 
"A man of all tongue is dangerous in his city." 
"He who says what he likes hears what he does not like." 
"It is good speaking that improves good silence." 
"It is one thing to speak much and another to speak per- 
tinently." 

"Speaking without thinking is shooting without aiming." 
"Speech is a gift of all, but thought of few." — Cato. 

"Thistles and thorns prick sore, 
But evil tongues prick more." 

"The tongue of a fool carves a piece of his heart to all who 
sit near him." 

Dialogue. 

Did you ever know of a case where a number of per- 
sons came home after witnessing some occurrence, and 
in describing what they saw, failed to tell it exactly 
alike? Do you think that ever happens? 

"Yes," you assure me, "that is quite sure to happen 
every time if a number of people try to give an account 
of the same event." And what is the reason for it? Do 
they make up the whole story ? 

"No," you assert. What, then, is the cause of the 
confusion ? "Well, to begin with," you say, "they may 
not all have observed carefully or seen everything 
which occurred." Yes, that is one explanation; just 
carelessness in noticing what took place. 

178 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 1 79 

But what made them give the whole account quite as 
if they had seen it precisely as it happened? Why 
should they not confess that they had not watched it 
carefully ? 

"Oh," you answer, "if they had been so frank, then 
people would not have listened to them or paid much 
attention to their story. Hence they tell it just as if 
they had seen it all. 

But is there any other reason why they should not 
agree in their account? "Yes," you continue, "it might 
be that they had not been in the same positions, and 
each one had seen only a part of what took place, or 
seen it from a different side." 

Then was their account inaccurate or untrue? "No, 
rot exactly," you admit ; "they each described what they 
saw." Why do you put in the word "exactly?" 
"Well," you reply, "they might have explained that, 
and told how they had seen it only from one side." 

Would the omission be intentional, do you think? 
"Not necessarily," you tell me, "they could forget to 
mention it." 

But suppose they do not forget in the matter. What 
other motive might they have? "Oh," you add, "it 
would spoil their story." 

When several persons describe an event and their 
accounts do not agree, which account is liable to be the 
most interesting? "Why," you explain, "the one that 
has most excitement to it, the most variety, the one 
that is best told." 

In the several accounts, on the other hand, which 
one would be the most liable to be accurately true, the 
one which was the most interesting and told with ex- 
citing features, or the one which would be tame and 
not attract so much attention? 

"Well," you assume, "we must admit that in all 
probability the tame one would probably be the more 
correct." 

But why? "To begin with," you say, "everything 
that happens might not be exciting or have anything 
exciting about it." But is that the only reason? I ask. 



l80 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

"No," you add further, "the fact of it is, a good many 
persons have a way of dressing up their story so as to 
make it interesting to people, and not telling it ex- 
actly as it happened." 

And what do we call such a habit ? "Oh, it is exag- 
geration," you say. Yes, you are right. 

Would you really assume that people do this deliber- 
ately ? Do they consciously tell a lie ? Are they clearly 
aware that they have left a part of their story out, or 
added something to it? "No, perhaps it is not quite so 
bad as that/' you hesitate. 

How do you explain it, then ? What is it done for ? 
"Why," you point out, "they may want to make their 
story interesting, to have people listen to them. They 
are anxious to attract attention to themselves." 

You mean that in doing this they dress up the story 
or the event, using words which make it striking but 
are not exactly true 'in the account? "Yes, that is 
about it," you reply. 

But if it is not done consciously or deliberately, 
with the idea of telling a lie, how is it possible that 
they can do this and not be aware of what they are 
doing. 

"Why, for instance," you suggest, "it becomes a sort 
of habit, so that by and by they forget exactly what did 
take place, or they purposely may not look very care- 
fully. And so when they are telling their story, they 
do not exactly know whether they are right or not in 
what they are describing." 

Take a number of persons in this way, say half a 
dozen boys and girls accustomed to repeating what 
they have heard. If they do not all give the same ac- 
count, will it so happen that sometimes it will be one 
of these people who tells the thing accurately, and an- 
other time another, and a third time a third, just as a 
matter of accident? 

"Oh, no," you assert, "not by any manner of means." 
How is it then? "Why," you add, "usually it is the 
same person who tells it correctly, and the same per- 
son who exaggerates it." 



A STUDY OF HABITS. l8l 

Then why is it that such persons who habitually ex- 
aggerate, are not found out in what they say, or in the 
way they describe things? "But they are found out," 
you tell me, "people always distinguish between those 
who exaggerate and those who are careful in their 
reports of what they see." 

In that case, how do we usually treat the reports of 
such persons who are inclined to give a careless ac- 
count in order to make it interesting ? Do we put con- 
fidence in it, and do we feel perfectly safe in repeating 
it to others in the same way ? "No," you add, "on the 
contrary we are always a little doubtful about it." 

Doubtful about the whole story, do you mean ? "No, 
not that." You do not mean that the person actually 
lies? "No," you answer. 

Doubtful about what, then ? "Oh, about the exciting 
part of the story, or the details of it. We may not know 
exactly what took place, but we take it for granted that 
something of the kind happened." 

Then do you remember a proverb or phrase that is 
used with regard to such persons whose word we can 
never quite trust, although we know that they do not 
mean to tell lies ? It is something about "salt." Can 
you recall it? "Take it with a grain of salt." Yes, 
that is the phrase. 

There are a great many persons whose stories or ac- 
counts we always have to take "with a grain of salt." 
And what does that mean? 

Salt is something we use in flavoring. What point 
is there in such a proverb ? "Why," you explain, "we 
are obliged to flavor their account, or modify it by 
our own judgment in deciding how far we can trust 
their word. Or we must flavor it with somebody else's 
report." 

It implies, then, does it, that we must always qualify 
such persons' accounts, and never take them quite as 
they are ? I suspect that is true. 

Do you suppose, however, that people usually know 
that they have this habit of exaggeration? "Not al- 
ways," you say. 



1 82 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

You assume, do you, that they may continue dress- 
ing up their stories, while other people take everything 
they say with a grain of salt, and yet they may not 
know about this. Yes, that is quite possible. But 
why is it that others do not tell them? 

"Oh," you answer, "it may hurt their feelings. And 
then besides," you add, "probably it would not do* any 
good. They would go on telling their stories in that 
way just the same." 

But would they care? Would it worry them, if 
people did not put confidence in what they told ? "Yes," 
you say, "they would not like that at all. But they 
would have the habit and it would probably go on as 
before." 

What subjects, by the way, more often tempt us to 
exaggerate ?. For instance : Suppose it is something 
which has happened to a person, or on the other hand, 
an accident which has happened merely to an object at 
our door. Which circumstance are we more inclined 
to exaggerate ? 

"Well," you admit, "perhaps we are more tempted 
in what we tell about persons." Yes, I suspect you 
are right. 

But what do we call this talking about persons, re- 
porting what we see or hear in regard to them ? You 
know the word ; a short one of two syllables, beginning 
with "g." "Gossip." Yes, that is it. 

And do you see that it is especially in gossip, this 
talking about people, where men and women, boys and 
girls, all alike, are most inclined to forget to tell the 
exact truth ? 

But further, in which case are we liable to be more 
careless or to exaggerate — in reporting what a person 
did, or in reporting what a person said ? "Well," you 
answer, "perhaps in reporting what a person said." 

But why? "Oh," you add, "it is not so easy to re- 
member. We cannot preserve the exact words." Have 
you ever noticed how the same person will repeat 
what he heard another man say, or another woman say, 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 183 

three different times, and in no instance tell it the 
same way or in the same words ? 

Is not this a little strange ? Don't you think it a pity 
that we are not more careful about trying to be exact 
in reporting the language of other persons ? 

What if we are telling something about somebody 
whom we do not like; or, on the other hand, about 
some person that we are fond of ; in which instance are 
we more inclined to exaggerate, to make the bad side 
still worse? 

"Oh," you say, "it is where we tell about persons we 
do not like." Have you ever observed how, in report- 
ing what we have seen a man or a woman do, we may 
also add the reason for it, exactly as if they had told 
it to us ? And yet they may not have mentioned it to 
us at all. We just merely guess it according to the 
way we like or dislike them. 

Perhaps by this time you begin to think that the 
habit of exaggeration is a very easy habit to fall into, 
and if you think so, I am quite sure you are right. 

It is very hard indeed, even for good, honest people 
not to have something of this habit. The very best 
persons may show it now and then. They will insert 
more than they see, or more than they hear. 

And there is one other bad form of exaggeration. In 
telling what another person said, is it merely the words 
we repeat? Would it be possible to report the exact 
words, even to a punctuation mark, and yet give an 
entirely wrong impression about the whole statement ? 
"Yes, that might be possible," you confess. "One can 
put a look on one's face, or assume a certain expression 
of the voice, and change the whole meaning." And 
what would you call that? "More of the same thing," 
you say, "more exaggeration." 

Points of the Lesson. 

I. That many people have a way of not reporting an event 
exactly as they saw it or heard it, because of the habit of 
exaggeration. 

II. That people exaggerate in order to make a story inter- 



184 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

esting and so fall into the habit of not seeing or hearing 
anything carefully. 

III. That people who exaggerate, are usually known and 
distrusted in what they have to say. 

IV. That we are more liable to exaggerate in what we re- 
port about persons than about things; and in what we tell 
about people we dislike than about those we like. 

V. That we are most liable to be careless in reporting what 
other people say, because of the difficulty of remembering 
precise language. 

VI. That exaggeration at first may be unintentional ; but by 
and by it may lead to conscious deception and afterwards to 
the downright lie. 

Duties. 

/. In reporting what we see or hear, we ought to 
try and describe it exactly as we saw it or heard it. 

Poem. 

Two ears and only one mouth have you; 

The reason, I think, is clear: 
It teaches, my child, that it will not do 

To talk about all you hear. 

Two eyes and only one mouth have you; 

The reason of this must be, 
That you should learn that it will not do 

To talk about all that you see. 

Two hands and only one mouth have you; 

And it is worth while repeating: 
The two are for work you will have to do — 

The one is enough for eating. 

— Anonymous. 

Further Suggestions to the Teacher: Un- 
interesting as this lesson may be to young peo- 
ple, it is, of course, most important. On the other hand, 
the teacher will have to be careful, owing to the fact 
that the parents of the children may have this habit, and 
the discussion may set the children to watching their 
parents and criticising them. But the evil is so great and 
the tendency so striking, that we must fight it. Owing 
to the dangerous influence the habit exerts on the whole 
character, it would be well for the teacher to collect a 
number of instances and repeat them to the members 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 1 85 

of the class. It could also be pointed out how very 
hard it is even for the careful observer to see what 
actually comes before his eyes. On this account we 
may warn the young people against being too ready to 
dispute others, or in being so sure of what they have 
seen themselves. If the teacher cares to look for illus- 
trations in this matter, he will find them to a remark- 
able degree in some of the volume of the "Proceedings 
of the English Society for Psychical Research." It 
may be rather hard for the members of the class to 
understand that they must not be too sure of trusting 
their own eyes. Yet on the whole it would be well to 
show them the many ways by which one can be care- 
less, first in what one observes and afterwards still 
more in reporting upon it. The disposition to "dress 
up" a story, in order to make it entertaining, is certainly 
growing on human nature. It might be well, there- 
fore, to find an instance where there are four or five re- 
ports of the same event, and have those reports read 
to the class, showing how they disagree. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 
PROFANITY. 

Proverbs or Verses. 

"The language denotes the man." 
"Maintain your rank, vulgarity despise; 

To swear is neither brave, polite nor wise." 
"We will take thy word for faith, not ask thine oath; 

Who shuns not to break one will sure crack both." 

— Shakespeare. 
"As the man, so is his speech." 

"It is more necessary to guard the mouth than the chest.' 
"Speech is the picture of the mind." 
"Put a key on thy tongue." 

"No one ever repented for having held his tongue." 
"Much tongue and much judgment seldom go together." — ■ 
UEstrange. 

"Keep your tongue within your teeth." 

"His tongue goes always on errands, but never speeds." 

"He cannot speak well who cannot hold his tongue." 

"Confine your tongue lest it confine you." 

"An unbridled tongue is the worst of diseases." — Euripidies. 

Dialogue. 

Did you ever hear a man swear? "Yes," you say, 
"we certainly have." 

How about boys ? "It is the same," you admit. "We 
have even heard boys swear." 

Which do you think is worse, for boys or for men 
to use such language? "Not much difference either 
way," you answer. Perhaps you are right. 

Is it, after all, a nice or a manly thing to swear, or 
to use profane language? Is it a good sort of habit 
to have? "No," you confess, "surely not." 

But suppose a boy does swear sometimes, or quite a 
good deal, is often given to using profane language, 
is it certain that he will stop it when he grows up and 

186 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 1 87 

becomes a man ? "No," you assert, "that is not at all 
sure." 

But why not ? All he will have to do will be to cease 
using the same kind of language he was using as a 
boy. "Oh yes," you add, "but he has formed the habit 
of swearing and it will be found no easy matter to 
break it off." 

Do you mean to tell me, for instance, that one cannot 
very easily change one's way of using words? What 
if one has used bad grammar until he is grown up, or 
pronounced words in a wrong way. Can one then not 
find out what good grammar is, and afterwards make 
use of the words in the right way? "It will not be so 
easy," you insist. 

But why not ? What will prevent him from at once 
making the change? "Oh," you reply, "he has formed 
a habit of talking in that way." Yes, you are quite 
right on that point. People who would really like to 
use correct language and speak grammatically when 
they are grown up, sometimes never can learn quite 
how to do it. "True," you point out, "it is because 
of the way they talk when they are boys and girls." 

Again, therefore, I ask, which may be worse, for a 
boy or for a man to swear? "As to that," you ac- 
knowledge, "perhaps after all it is even worse for a 
boy, because it will be more difficult for him to get rid 
of the habit when he is grown up." 

But what do people swear for? When you hear a 
boy using profane language, why is he talking in that 
way? 

"Oh," you explain, "he may be angry and he is let- 
ting out his bad feelings." If that is true, using pro- 
fane language does not show a very nice sort of a 
spirit, does it? 

But have you ever heard persons using such language 
when they are not angry at all, just merely in conversa- 
tion with other persons ? "Yes," you answer, "it does 
happen." 

What do they do it for ? What reason is there in it, 



1 88 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

or what sense? "Oh," you assure me, "perhaps they 
think it sounds fine." 

But what do you mean by that ? Would you imply 
that everybody who listens to it, admires them for it? 
"No, not quite that," you answer; "but perhaps it 
makes them feel important to use such language." 
You think, then, do you, that swearing is a way of 
"showing off," appearing "smart." 

For my part I really believe that is the case. In my 
opinion people swear mainly as a way of showing 
off. They are calling attention to themselves. 

What, by the way, was the bird or animal we men- 
tioned as seeming to show pride? "The peacock?" 
Yes. And what does the peacock seem to do? "Strut/' 
you tell me. True, that is just it. 

Then you assume that swearing is a way of strutting 
like the peacock. After all, would there not be some- 
thing contemptible in using profane language under 
those circumstances, even if there were no other objec- 
tion to it? 

Did you ever see a person who had clothes on that 
were too big for him ? "Oh yes," you smile. When a 
boy, for instance, puts on a man's hat, how does he 
look? "Why," you say, "it is ridiculous. We laugh 
at him." 

And suppose a man, for instance, should put on a 
hat twice too big for himself and walk along the street 
with it on, what would people do? "They would smile ?" 

Have you ever noticed that when persons are not 
very brave, they sometimes talk in a very bold sort of a 
way and use bad language? Does it strike you that 
profanity may be very much like assuming something 
on the outside which does not correspond with what 
you have inside, as if you were wearing a hat that 
is too big for you, showing off, or calling attention to 
yourself? 

After all, you see, swearing is something really con- 
temptible. It is using words which seem too big for 
us, and people appear to "swell out," as it were, when 
they swear, just as a peacock swells out. 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 1 89 

By the way, do girls ever use profane language? 
You smile at that, I see. "Sometimes," you say. But 
do they swear as much as boys or as much as men? 
"No," you answer, "not in the same way." 

What do you mean by that? "Oh," you tell me, 
"girls may use other words. They may employ phrases 
which sound just as bad for them as profane language 
would for boys or men." 

Then do you think it is swearing? "It is pretty much 
the same thing," you insist. Yes, I suspect you are 
right. You see, swearing does not depend altogether 
on the special words one uses. Girls can make them- 
selves as contemptible with their kind of showy lan- 
guage, as boys or men can with their profanity. 

But is there any other very serious reason which 
makes swearing not only contemptible, but bad? What 
kind of words do we usually associate with profanity ? 
"Sacred words," you say. You imply, then, do you, by 
sacred words those names or words which are solemn 
to many people ? 

Do you mean to say that the use of those solemn or 
sacred words at any time may be swearing or profan- 
ity? "Oh no," you explain, "it is when one employs 
them lightly, or in order to make one's language seem 
strong, or in order to show off, or when one is angry, 
then it is swearing." Yes, you are right. 

But what if some one to whom these words are very 
sacred, happens to hear another man swearing, how 
does it affect him? "Why," you admit, "it must, of 
course, be painful." 

Why should he care? He does not use those words 
in that way himself. Let me give you an illustration. 
What if you heard another boy talking slightingly 
about your father or mother, how would you feel? 
"Hurt," you answer. Yes, most decidedly hurt. 

But why should you care? Why should you not just 
turn away and not listen? "Oh," you assert, "one could 
not do that with regard to one's father or mother." 

Then do you think it might be shameful or bad for 
another person to speak contemptuously in your pres- 



igO A STUDY OF HABITS. 

ence about your father or mother ? "Yes, we do," you 
exclaim. 

And now what if these words used in profane lan- 
guage are just as sacred to other people as your father 
and mother are sacred to you? If you employ those 
words slightingly in their presence, is it not low or 
mean on your part? Is it not really just the same as if 
you were talking contemptuously about their father or 
mother ? It is almost like striking th@m a blow. 

So you see it is not only contemptible or undignified 
to use profanity, but it is also low and unmanly to use 
lightly those names which are solemn or sacred to other 
people. 

And yet all we have said about swearing may seem 
of trifling importance, in comparison to the further 
reason against it, which we have not even mentioned. 
What commandment against it have we heard about, 
which was put forward hundreds and thousands of 
years ago ? Do you remember ? 

"Yes, indeed," you assure me. And what was it, I 
ask. "Why," you exclaim, " 'Thou shalt not take the 
name of the Lord thy God in vain.' " 

What, then, do we call swearing? It is the word 
we have already used, beginning with "p." "Profan- 
ity," you suggest. Yes, exactly. If, for instance, a 
man were to speak slightingly of his mother, would it 
shock us? "Surely," you tell me. Why? "There is 
no 'why' about it," you answer. It would be just 
awful." Yes, that is true. 

Does it not seem a little strange, then, that people 
who would never dream of speaking slightingly of their 
mothers, or who would never tolerate that anyone else 
should do this, on the other hand are careless in talking 
in this way about the great Maker and Father of all? 
If the names of one's human father and mother are 
sacred to us, should not the name of the great Father 
who made all things, be even more sacred ? 

I wonder what it suggests to you when you hear 
people using such language, taking sacred names 'in 
vain" ? I should call it "brutishness." If swine could 



A STUDY OF HABITS. I9I 

think and talk, I should fancy them filling in the time 
when not eating, by using vulgar swear words and 
speaking slightingly of their Maker. 

But you ask: "If this is true, why do men swear? 
Why should they be like swine ? Why should they put 
themselves on the level with brutes ?" 

It would be hard for me to give you an answer. 
Sometimes it would seem as if it really required an 
effort for people to act like men, and not like beasts. 

This much we can say, that man as man never swears. 
It is man as brute or beast, who takes the name of his 
Maker in vain or uses carelessly and slightingly the 
name of the Father-over-All. The commandment has 
come down to us over these thousands of years, as one 
of the great charges to all the world : "Thou shalt not 
take the name of the Lord thy God in vain." 

Points of the Lesson. 

I. That it may be even worse for a boy or girl to swear 
than for a grown person, because it would be even harder to 
give up the habit afterwards. 

II. That swearing is contemptible, because it is showing off 
with big words and is a form of vanity or conceit. 

III. That swearing is vulgar and ungentlemanly, because it 
is offensive to others. 

IV. That swearing is wrong, because it hurts the feelings 
of others concerning what they may hold as sacred. 

Duties. 

/. We ought not to swear, because swearing is 
dealing lightly with sacred things. 

II. We ought not to swear, because in doing so, 
we are guilty of profanity toward the Deity. 

Further Suggestions to the Teacher: As to 
whether it is deemed advisable to introduce the last feat- 
ure concerning profanity, will depend on whether it has 
been decided to introduce the religious phase into these 
lessons. If the school where they are used is pledged to 
neutrality on such matters, then this further aspect can 
be passed over. We have inserted it on the supposi- 



ig2 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

tion that the teacher is to exercise his own judgment in 
the matter. There is also the fact to be considered in 
connection with this whole subject, that with a miscel- 
laneous class of children, if one speaks too emphatically 
one may be reflecting on their parents. And here we 
should be at the danger point. If the young people 
mingle with persons who are given more or less to a 
careless use of the name of the Deity, then the "wicked- 
ness" of such language may not come out clearly, and 
we may find it difficult to impress this point on the 
minds of the young. It depends a good deal on the 
child himself or on his surroundings, as to what motives 
we may reach in their minds. But a great deal can be 
done in making them feel how contemptible profanity 
sounds. What we are aiming at is to discourage them in 
the use of such language ; and if we can throw an ele- 
ment of the ridiculous around it or make it seem con- 
temptible, if nothing more, we may be able to get at 
their feelings in that way. While drawing the compari- 
son between swearing among boys on the one hand and 
grown people on the other, and showing that it may 
often be worse in the young, we are not to let them as- 
sume that it is dignified language for any class of per- 
sons. In fact the point could be brought out that a 
man makes himself often even more ridiculous in using 
such language, because he is acting like a boy, in trying 
to show off with high-sounding words. The term "un- 
manly," if not introduced too often, is very effective, in 
throwing a sense of opprobrium upon certain language 
or conduct. But we must take care that this word is 
not introduced too frequently so as to become com- 
monplace. Do not let the girls who may be members 
of the class, be indifferent to this subject of profanity. 
Make them feel that their very "slang" can be almost 
as bad or contemptible as swearing among boys. If pos- 
sible, of course, we wish to bring home the fact that 
profanity at root is a state of the mind or heart, rather 
than a mere act of the tongue. But it will depend on 
the age of the pupils as to whether this more advanced 
thought can be made effective. We are aware that a 



A STUDY OF HABITS. I93 

strict and scholarly interpretation of the commandment 
in the Decalogue might not admit of the latitude we 
have given to the meaning of profanity. But we apply 
the words in the sense in which they are conventionally 
understood. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

HABIT OF BORROWING. 

Proverbs or Verses. 

"A borrowed cloak does not keep one warm." 

"Beware of borrowing; it bringeth care by night and dis- 
grace by day." — Hindoo. 

"Borrowed garments never fit well." 

"He who is quick at borrowing, is slow at paying." 

"Borrowing makes sorrowing." 

"Much borrowing destroys credit." 

"When one borrows, one cannot choose." 

"A hundred years of vexation will not pay a farthing of 
debt." 

"Borrowing does well only once." 

"Borrowing is the mother of trouble." 

"He that goes a-borrowing goes a-sorrowing. ' ' 

"Neither a borrower nor a lender be, 
For loan oft lose3 both itself and friend." — Shakespeare. 

Dialogue. 

Suppose a boy or girl comes to you and says : "Let 
me have your lead pencil." What do you call that? 
"Begging," you say. Yes, but what else might it be, 
instead? "Oh," you answer, "it may be that they want 
toborrow.it." 

Do you think it is right to borrow? "Why, yes, 
surely," you tell me. Then you mean that if I come to 
ask for your pencil and your penknife and your money 
and your clothes, and keep on borrowing indefinitely, 
it's all right, is it? "No," you add, "that would be too 
much." But why? I ask. 

"It depends," you reply, "on how much one bor- 
rows or how often one does it." You assume, then, 
that it may possibly be that too much borrowing would 
not be exactly right. 

But what do people borrow for ? Why should they 
194 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 1 95 

do it ? "As to that," you explain, "there is something 
they need and which they do not happen to have. It is 
a convenience for them to borrow this for a short 
time." 

But is there any other motive for borrowing besides 
just mere convenience? What would you say, for in- 
stance, of a man who asked you to lend him something 
which you really needed for your own use, when he 
might get that thing for himself if only he would take a 
little trouble in order to secure it? 

"Why," you assert, "that is borrowing perhaps be- 
cause one is lazy." But is there any other motive be- 
sides mere convenience, or sheer laziness, that leads 
people to borrow ? 

What if a person happens to know that you have 
spent money in purchasing a thing, and he comes and 
asks to borrow it, so as not to have to spend the money 
himself? 

"Oh," you assert, "that is scheming. It is selfishness. 
There may be no reason why he should not go and buy 
it just as we did." We have found, have we, that bor- 
rowing can proceed from motives of laziness or selfish- 
ness, just as much as for the sake of convenience? 

So far as you have observed boys and girls or men 
and women, do you notice that all people borrow to the 
same extent? "No," you say, "one person may be more 
selfish or lazy than another." But is that all? Might 
they not do it, even if they were not people of that kind ? 

"Yes," you answer, "perhaps they might do this just 
by getting into the habit of it." Quite so. People may 
just fall into the habit of borrowing, who had not at 
first done it very often. It may have begun from lazi- 
ness or selfishness or merely because it was occasionally 
convenient, and then they do it constantly. 

But do you see any reason why people should be a 
little cautious about getting into the habit of borrow- 
ing? What difference should it make, after all, pro- 
vided we are careful to return what we borrow ? 

"Yes," you insist, "it does make a difference ; other 
people may not like y?§ so much, if we are all the time 



ig6 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

given to borrowing." Then you think, clo you, that 
this habit could make us unpopular with others ? 

But could it really injure one's character? "Yes," 
you answer, "it can make one more lazy. It may also 
cultivate selfishness. We may fall into the habit of 
using our friends, rather than of taking trouble, our- 
selves." 

What about the matter of honesty in regard to bor- 
rowing? Did you ever hear of a person who borrowed 
something and forgot to return it ? I see you smile at 
the question. But why ? 

"Oh," you say, "because there are lots of such peo- 
ple." Do you really imply that they borrow, as a rule, 
and do not intend to return it? "No," you assure me, 
"more often they really do intend to return it when they 
borrow it." 

Then why is it that they fail to do so? "Careless- 
ness," you reply. "They keep putting off returning it, 
until by and by they forget all about it." 

Is that honesty? Is that justice? Is that fair? "No," 
you admit, "it is dishonesty. It is mean." Then you 
think, do you, that the habit of borrowing may lead us 
into habits of dishonesty ? 

But suppose you borrow something and do return it, 
then is it all right, everything satisfactory? "It de- 
pends," you tell me, "on the condition of the thing 
when it is returned." "For example," you add, "we 
may borrow a book of another person and soil it, so that 
when it is returned it is not in as nice condition as be- 
fore." 

But is that as bad as not returning it at all? "No, 
not quite as bad," you say, "but it is a form of dis- 
honesty." 

How do you think we should deal with things that 
we have borrowed from others ? Should we treat them 
just as we treat things which belonged to ourselves? 
"No," you insist, "one ought to be even more careful 
and take greater pains with something one has bor- 
rowed." 

Yes, I suspect you are right. If we borrow a book, 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 1 97 

we ought to put a cover on it, perhaps. If we receive 
anything in that way we should be unusually careful in 
regard to it. You are right, if we return it in a poorer 
condition than we received it, then it is a form of 
stealing. 

But could a man do anything about it? If I lend a 
book and you returned it in not quite as nice condition 
as before, could I make you pay for it? "Probably 
not," you say. In that case is it not even worse to do a 
thing of that kind? Is it not positively mean to injure 
a thing belonging to another, when there is no possible 
redress ? 

How, then, does it injure one's self to fall into the 
habit of borrowing? Does it make us weaker, or stron- 
ger in character? Are we more, or less dependent on 
ourselves? "Why," you answer, "it makes us less 
self-dependent, of course." 

You assume, do you, that people who fall into the 
habit of borrowing, really have less self-respect than 
before ? 

Now I come to another point. If you have borrowed 
something and return it, is that all you have to do, just 
to give it back again, provided it is in as good condition 
as before? "No," you say, "one should also express 
one's thanks." 

Do you feel, then, that everything would be settled ? 
Is there anything more you could do? Suppose one 
family borrows half a cup of sugar — to use a very 
simple illustration — when the family undertakes to re- 
turn it, would it be the right way to measure it exactly, 
an even half cup? 

"No." you add, "it might be better to put in a little 
more than one received." Why? I ask. "Because," 
you explain, "it would be a little nicer ; it would show 
that we are more grateful, more appreciative." 

Yes, that is true. If we borrow something and can 
return a little more without hurting another's feelings, 
we should always be sure to do it — not as payment, but 
as a courtesy. 

Is there anything else you could do? "Yes," you an- 



I98 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

swer, "we might turn about and try to do something 
for them, render them a favor in return." You are 
right. That is a point to be considered. 

When, by the way, you borrow something of another, 
what sort of a relation do you establish between your- 
self and the other person? "Why," you tell me, "we 
put ourselves under an obligation to another." 

What would you mean by that? "Oh," you say, "it 
would imply that other persons are entitled to ask all 
sorts of favors of us in return." And you assume, do 
you, that this would be rather embarrassing? If so, it 
is another serious objection to this habit. 

From what persons are we most justified in borrow- 
ing, if we do this at all? "Why," you say, "from 
one's family or one's friends." But under what special 
circumstances would you feel most free to do this ? 

Suppose, for instance, a person was using a thing 
himself just when you wanted it, would you feel quite at 
liberty to go and borrow it? "No," you assert, "we 
should try to do it when it will cause the least Incon- 
venience to the person from whom we ask it." 

Speaking of this habit as a whole, what do people 
borrow most of all ; clothes, would you say, or things 
to eat ? "No," you answer, "it is money more than 
anything else." But could one have more than one 
purpose in borrowing money? 

Which do you think would be the worse habit; to 
borrow money to spend, or to borrow it as capital with 
which to improve one's business, for instance? "As to 
that," you say, "we should feel more ashamed to bor- 
row money merely in order to spend it on our pleas- 
ures." But why? I ask. "Because," you continue, 
"it seems more selfish." 

Yes, you are right. But is there any other reason? 
"Well," you add, "perhaps one might be less able to 
return it." 

Points of the Lesson. 

I. That borrowing is right. But loo much borrowing is not 
always right. 

II. That some people borrow — for convenience sake. 



A STUDY OF HABITS. I99 

III. That some borrow from laziness or sheer selfishness. 

IV. That others borrow just because they have fallen into 
the habit of it. 

V. That the habit of borrowing may lead to dishonesty, by 
making us careless about returning a thing. 

VI. That we should be more careful of a borrowed thing 
than of our own property. 

VII. That we should try to return a little more than we 
borrow. 

VIII. That borrowing puts us under obligations to others. 

IX. That if we borrow money we should do it only when 
absolutely necessary. 

X. That borrowing, if a habit, may be an injury to our- 
selves, besides making us a " Nuisance " to others. 

Duties. 

/. We ought to be ready to lend to others in case of 
need, but be slow to borrow from others. 

II. We ought to be even more careful with some- 
thing we have borrowed than with anything which is 
our own property. 

Further Suggestions to the Teacher: It 
is important that we should avoid arousing too 
strong a prejudice against borrowing and lending as 
methods in business life — else it might cause confusion 
in the minds of the young people, when they know that 
their fathers are doing this in one way or another. The 
distinction could be pointed out that borrowing in the 
commercial world is more of a business transaction, in 
that people rent money just as they rent houses, and 
receive a rent for it in the form of interest. The kind 
of borrowing we have been dealing with in this lesson, 
is the form of mutual good will, with no business con- 
siderations in it, and where there is to be no pay or 
rent for the object lent or the service rendered. It 
would be better not to go into the subject of usury, 
but limit the discussion to the one phase of borrowing 
just mentioned. On the other hand, it may be well to 
raise a voice of warning against the danger of involv- 
ing- one's self in debt, even where it is a financial trans- 
action. This point, however, can only be made in a 
general way with a warning to the young concerning 



200 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

the evil of going too far in taking risks of this kind and 
thus bringing ruin to one's self or one's family. 
Caution, again, must be used here, however, in fear 
lest there be some reflection cast on the parents of the 
members of the class. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

HABITS OF SERVICE. 

Proverbs or Verses. 

"A service done by the unwilling is no service." 

"He who serves many masters must neglect some." 

"He who will not serve one must needs serve many." 

"Small service is true service while it lasts." — Wordsworth. 

"Unwilling service earns no thanks." — Danish. 

"Whoever serves well and says nothing makes claim 
enough." 

"A servant is known by his master's absence." 

"A good servant makes a good master." 

"All men cannot be masters." 

"Be the first in the field and the last to the couch." 

"Honest labor bears a lovely face." 

"Deem no man in any age, 
Gentle for his lineage. 

Tho' he be not highly born 
He is gentle if he doth 

What belongeth to a gentleman." — Chaucer. 

"Thou earnest not to command, but to serve." — Thomas & 
Eempis. 

Dialogue. 

Why is it, do you suppose, that a person rather hates 
to be called a servant ? This is not always true. And 
it ought never to be true. Still it does happen. Can 
you suggest any reason for it? 

What if some one, for instance, a boy or girl of 
about your age, should call you their servant, would 
you like it? "Probably not," you admit. Why not? I 
ask. What harm would it do? 

"Why," you suggest, "it would sound as if they 
owned us, in a way, or as if we had to do just what 
they told us. And we should feel as if we did not ex- 
actly belong to ourselves." 

Yes, I add, but you may have to do this with regard 
201 



202 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

to your fathers or mothers. They control you and you 
must do what they say. "Oh well," you tell me, "in 
that case it is one's father and one's mother." 

You mean, do you, that your father and mother do 
not exactly own you? "No," you assert, "they have a 
right to control us, because they are our parents and 
are older than we are and have more experience." 

What is the actual reason, then, that we do not like 
to be servants, under any circumstances? "As to 
that," you suggest, "perhaps it is because as long as we 
are servants, we cannot do as we please. We must do 
as other people please. And so it rather makes us 
rebel." 

I want to be sure now, that I know what you mean. 
Do you suppose that there is a living person in the 
world who can do altogether as he pleases? "Why, 
surely," you say. Well, who, for example ? 

"Why," you continue, "a king or a czar, the man who 
rules over a country." Yes, that is often asserted. 
People often talk about what a fine thing it would be 
to become a czar. You assume, do you, that such a 
person can do as he pleases? 

But do you suppose a czar is ever afraid? "Yes," 
you answer, "that might happen. Perhaps there might 
be plots against his life." Would he like this? "Not 
a bit of it," you confess. 

Then how might he act in order to escape from the 
necessity of being afraid? "Oh, that would be easy 
enough," you point out. "He could have police and 
they could look after him." 

Yes, but do you know that sometimes in such coun- 
tries where they have a very strong police, the czar is 
still very much afraid? We are told that there are 
times over in Russia when the czar has to stay shut in 
his palace for weeks, in fear lest something may hap- 
pen to him. And yet he has a great many police to 
look after him. 

What else could he do besides this in order to avoid 
the necessity of being afraid? "Well," you reply, "he 
might try to please the people and make them like him, 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 203 

so that they would not want to injure him." In doing 
that, do you think he would be doing all the time ex- 
actly as he pleased? 

"Probably not," you tell me. "It may be he would do 
this just in order to escape danger to himself." Then, 
I ask you, is he altogether a free man, even if he is a 
czar? Is he not to some extent a servant? Is he not 
compelled to do what he may not like to do ? "Perhaps 
so," you admit. 

Then I must ask you further. A servant of whom? 
Who are the masters to whom he must sometimes be 
of service? "Why," you tell me, "the people he is 
placed to rule over." It turns out, then, does it, that 
a czar or a king must also sometimes be a servant and 
do things for the people, even if he does not care to do 
this ; or when he would much rather be amusing him- 
self? 

If that is true, even a czar or any sort of a king must 
give up his own pleasures at times and do work for the 
people he rules over. Then does he not have to do 
service ? Is he not in a sense, partially a servant ? "To 
some extent," you confess. 

Why is it, can you tell me, that this notion of being 
somebody else's servant has been connected with the 
idea of being owned by somebody, as if the servant 
was another person's property ? 

"Oh, that may have come," you suggest, "from for- 
mer times when there were slaves, and men and women 
were owned by the persons whom they served." Owned 
in what way, do you mean ? Do you think that it ever 
happened that they were owned in a sense that they 
could be bought and sold? "Certainly," you insist. 

Do you fancy it ever happened that their masters 
could punish them by putting them to death? "Per- 
haps so," you admit. 

Yes. Over in Africa, now, in some places a master 
may put his servant to death because he is angry with 
him. But you must remember that this implies slavery. 

In what way would you assume that being a slave 



204 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

differed from being a servant, as we understand the 
word "servant" nowadays? 

"Well, for instance," you explain, "the servant is 
paid wages, whereas the slave had no wages, but only 
received whatever the master chose to give him. And 
what is more than that, the servant can spend his 
money or his wages as he pleases." 

Is that all? "No, more than that," you continue, 
"the servant can change his place if he wants to, he 
can decide with whom he will work or for whom he 
will do service." Yes, that is perfectly true. 

"Then, too," you add, "the servant cannot be pun- 
ished in the same way as the slave. He cannot be 
struck or whipped or starved." 

You say, however, that being a servant implies not 
being able to have one's own way or do as one pleases. 
This, of course, was true of slavery. But can one as 
a servant never do as one likes — never, at all ? 

"Oh, yes," you suggest, "he may have to do what 
another person asks of him for a certain length of time, 
so many hours in a day. After that he may be free to 
go his own way." 

It looks then, as if there was a sharp distinction be- 
tween being a slave and being a servant. 

What class of persons, however, especially go under 
the name of "servants" nowadays. "Why," you say, 
"those who do service in our homes." 

But is there any real difference that you can see be- 
tween one who does service of that kind, and the clerk 
in the store or the man who is a bookkeeper, or one 
who has to work in an office for an employer ? 

"Yes," you point out, "the servant lives in the house 
where he or she works." But, after all, isn't it a dis- 
tinction about a name more than anything else ? 

You see, every person who works for wages or for 
pay of any kind, during the time when he is working, 
is a servant to another or to others. He must do what 
others tell him, at least up to a certain point. 

Do you assume therefore that people really at such 
times belong to their employer, that they are his prop- 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 205 

erty? "No, not at all," you insist. What is it then, 
that belongs to him, if they are working for pay ? 

"Why," you continue, "their time is his, or the work 
that they do for a certain time in the day belongs to 
him. He has a right to direct them or their efforts 
during that time." 

Yes, that is true. Their time belongs to the em- 
ployer. But does it belong to him altogether. Has the 
employer a right to make them do anything he pleases ? 
Is he the owner altogether of their time and their 
work ? 

"No," you answer, "only for the kind of work one 
has agreed to do. Up to that point a man's work and 
time belongs to the person who employs him, and up to 
that point he is a servant." 

Do you suppose it happens that the employer also 
may be a servant ? Take, for instance, a factory. There 
may be a foreman who> employs the men doing the 
work in the factory, and those men have to obey him 
in their work. But is he not also employed by others ? 
"Yes," you admit. 

"But then," you continue, "the man at the head of 
the firm, the president or manager, he is not a servant." 
How do you know that ? I ask. What if he is the officer 
of a company, who elect him as the president? Then 
if he does not manage the business in a certain way, or 
make it profitable, he may lose his position and some- 
body else may be elected as president. Is he not, then, 
a servant? "Yes, in a sense," you answer, "he is the 
servant of the company." 

It seems, does it, that even while we may be servants 
of one set of persons, they may be servants of other 
sets of persons. And so it goes on. The President of 
the United States, is really a servant and nothing else. 
He has to do what the people command him to do'. 

What is it, however, that people usually do service 
for? "Oh," you tell me, "in order to earn one's living, 
for wages or salary, in order to make money." 

Yes, that is quite true. But is this the whole reason ? 
Does a man always go into the business or take up the 



200 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

kind of work where he can make the most money? 
"Not always/' you admit. 

Why not ? "Oh," you add, "it may be that he would 
dislike the kind of work where he could make the most 
money ; perhaps he would much prefer to do the sort 
of work where he might make less money but where he 
would enjoy the work more." 

Do you suppose that in certain kinds of business or 
occupation, a man may do a part of the work not for 
the sake of the money at all, but because he desires to 
be of some good or to do some good, without pay? 
"It may be possible," you answer. 

What motive would a person have who worked in 
that way? "Oh," you suggest, "almost everybody is 
glad to do some things for other people without being 
paid. 

Suppose a person never did any more than exactly 
what he was paid for, just so much and no more, 
always taking great care to stop at that point. Would 
you like to have a person of that kind working for you ? 

"Not exactly," you admit. Why not? I ask. "Oh," 
you explain, "we should somehow feel as if he looked 
upon us only as a means for making money out of us." 
Yes, but what of it as long as he really does the service ? 

"True," you continue, "but we are human beings 
and not merely paymaster and laborer. If we are 
really human beings, we want to be of some service to 
one another." 

It looks, then,, does it, as if a person who never 
would do anything whatever, unless for pay, would be 
rather a mean sort of a person? Is that the way it 
strikes you? 

Have you ever heard of any class of people who work 
for wages but who always seem to wait around and 
want a little extra pay? "Yes, plenty of them," you 
say. And what is that extra pay called, sometimes? 
"Oh, a fee !" 

Suppose, for instance, the man who runs an elevator, 
and who got his regular wages, acted as if he wanted 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 207 

everybody to give him a little something extra now 
and then? 

"Well," you suggest, "it would seem rather small." 
Why? I ask. "As to that," you reply, "such a man 
looks upon everybody as if he wanted to make money 
out of them, when he is being paid already." 

You think, then, do you, that those who wait around 
for small fees besides the wages they get, are not a 
very high class of people? I must confess that I agree 
with you. 

It really hurts the character very much for a per- 
son to be always trying to get money out of every- 
body, beside the wages they receive. People do not 
like that sort of character. 

When a man has done something for you, a service 
of some kind without pay, how do you feel toward 
him? "Oh," you answer, "we naturally feel grateful or 
kindly toward him." And do you respect him more? 
"Yes, even more." 

If, however, he waits around and wants a fee, and 
you pay him, what sort of a feeling do you have? 
"Why," you say, "we are quits then. We want him 
to go away, and we have a sort of feeling of contempt 
for him." 

And don't you think the man also loses somewhat 
in his own self-respect? All over the world you will 
find that people despise those persons who loiter around 
waiting for fees. They feel a contempt for such in- 
dividuals. They never think of them as being equals 
with themselves. 

When a man takes fees besides the wages he re- 
ceives, at once he makes himself an inferior to the 
one who gives the fee. He puts himself in a position 
where he knows he can be despised. If we wish to 
have the respect of other people, sometimes we shall 
have to be of service to them without asking for pay. 

For instance, when two people are on an "equal 
plane" as we say — you know what I mean by that, I 
think — two men employed in an office as bookkeepers 
or something like that, and one of them does a little 



208 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

favor for the other, he would not expect pay, would he ? 
"Probably not," you answer. 

But suppose he did. What if he acted as if he 
wanted to be paid ? "Why," you add, "then he would 
simply take the attitude of an inferior." They would 
not then be friends or act as if they were equals, would 
they? 

But now on the other hand, where a man has a regu- 
lar occupation which he has studied to fit himself for, 
and then receives wages or salary from an employer, 
does he then make himself inferior to the employer? 
"No, not at all," you assert. 

Why not? "Oh," you answer, "the employer may 
also receive a salary from somebody else. Each one 
of them is doing what he has fitted himself for, and 
it is right that he should receive wages or salary for 
that kind of work." 

And why should he not ask all sorts of small sums 
from other persons? "Because," you explain, "he re- 
ceives his wages or salary, and he ought to be willing 
to do a little extra service now and then for others, 
just for the sake of human fellowship." 

I wonder if you know, by the way, that those occu- 
pations where people are paid by fees, as we say, rather 
than by regular wages, are usually despised occupa- 
tions. Persons in such employment are always looked 
down upon, and they know it too. 

The man who earns regular wages or salary can 
hold his head high and feel himself just as good as 
anybody else. But the one who is paid in small ways 
by everybody for everything he does, gets into a habit 
as we have said, of looking upon everybody only as 
things to make money out of. 

You see that when a person looks on us in that light, 
we do not feel toward him exactly like a fellow- 
creature. If you want to preserve your self-respect 
and be respected by others, and do not wish to have 
others look upon you as inferiors, avoid that kind of 
work where you would be tempted to look all the while 
for fees. You may lose more than you ma,k$ by it. 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 209 

You may know, for example, how grown people feel 
when they go to a hotel, and boys or people in service 
there all stand around waiting on them and acting 
every moment as if they wanted to be paid for some- 
thing ; how disagreeable the feeling is ; how, even when 
we pay the persons, we half-despise them. It is the 
same in restaurants where we fee the waiters. 

Do you see another reason, I wonder, why this man- 
ner of earning one's living or making money is con- 
temptible. How was it in the days of slavery when 
there was no such thing as wages? How was it that 
the slaves got any money or any favors? "Oh," you 
say, "by begging or seeking for such favors ; by mak- 
ing one's self more completely a slave." 

You see how it is that those persons who wait 
around in order to be paid each time for everything 
they do, are really putting themselves back into a sort 
of slavery? They are the least free of any class of 
servants. And that is why, in spite of ourselves, we 
half-despise them, just as we should be inclined to look 
down upon a slave. 

I wonder if you can understand how it is that a 
person actually can earn money and then find out that 
he fails to get just what he thought he would gain by 
means of money. In order to get it he makes himself 
half-despised. And yet he earns the money partly in 
order to have the respect and goodwill of other people. 

All people who do service for wages and salary for 
the kind of work which they can do well, are in a 
sense on a plane of equality. It is when we try to 
make people pay us in extra ways for work that we 
cannot do well or for the little services we owe to each 
other as human beings, that we make ourselves in- 
ferior, and in a sense acknowledge that we are not as 
good as the persons we are serving. 

Points of the Lesson. 

I. That all persons are servants in one form or another. 
No one can do exactly as one pleases. 

II. That a servant is not a slave. He belongs to an em- 
ployer only for the length of time and form of service he has 



2IO A STUDY OF HABITS. 

contracted for. The employer in another way is also a 
servant. 

III. That expecting to make something out of others for 
each and every service of every kind one renders, is unworthy 
of us. 

IV. That regarding every person as a means for making 
money out of him, is a way of treating persons as mere things 
and not as human beings. 

V. That looking for fees or extra payment besides our 
usual wages or salary, puts us on a plane of inferiority to 
those we serve and makes us despised by them. 

VI. That we should not expect to be paid twice for a serv- 
ice, once in the way of salary or wages, and again in the way 
of a fee. 

VII. That living on fees is putting one's self back in the 
days of slavery, before wages and contracts were introduced. 
Wages means independence; fees imply a badge of slavery. 

VIII. That wages and salary can be paid between men as 
equals. But in the acceptance of a fee one places one's self 
on a plane of inferiority. 

Duties. 

/. We ought to respect service as the true lot of 
every human being. 

II. We ought to be willing to do some service with- 
out pay, in the spirit of human fellowship. 

III. We ought never to receive any kind of pay 
which would put us on a plane of positive inferiority 
towards those whom we serve. 

Further Suggestions to Teachers. — If it is per- 
missible to introduce the religious phase at all in these 
lessons, the above poem is a rare gem, and as one of 
the most beautiful of its kind should be committed to 
memory by all the members of the class. The tone of 
it gives dignity to labor and to every form of true 
service. The effect of it is to make the person feel that 
in any kind of honest work he is doing more than earn- 
ing his living, in that he is rendering a service to the 
whole human race, in contributing a share to the cause 
of Humanity. There is a sublime suggestion here of a 
Common Human Brotherhood in its suggestion of the 
Brotherhood of Man and the Fatherhood of God. As 
regards the various points in this lesson on "Habits of 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 211 

Service," there is material enough here for a number 
of lessons. The whole problem of fees, wages, salaries 
or payment of any kind for service rendered, is a deli- 
cate one. One of the greatest weaknesses of human 
nature is this desire to receive a little extra payment 
in the form of a gift or bonus. We do not wish to con- 
demn it altogether, inasmuch as there are times when 
the regular payment may be inadequate. Then, too, 
there are classes of servants whose only wages would 
come in the form of fees, and we do not wish to imply 
that such persons must necessarily be despised, if that 
is the only way they have of making a living. Yet 
we do wish most emphatically to throw a contempt 
around fee-taking or the insistence on fees on the part 
of persons doing a service for which they are paid 
reasonable wages by a company or employer. It is 
legitimate to point out therefore, the kind of feeling we 
naturally have, when in order to get the service we 
are entitled to at a hotel or restaurant or any public 
place, we are compelled to pay something in addition, 
to those serving us. The tables may then be turned 
and it could be pointed out how persons in the other 
walks of life may be guilty of the same offense in an- 
other form, and that in doing so they put themselves 
on a plane of inferiority. On the other hand, we do 
not wish in such a lesson to teach that a workman 
is not entitled to wages or salary for service rendered. 
There is a nice distinction which can be made with 
regard to the kind of work for which one fits one's self 
and through which one expects to earn one's living. In 
the profession of medicine, for instance, a doctor is 
entitled to expect a fee for the service he performs. 
But if any man who had not been educated as a doctor 
should temporarily render a little service of the kind 
that would usually come from a physician, and then 
expect pay for it, he would be looked down upon or 
despised. The young people should be encouraged to 
feel that they ought to be willing to render gratuitous 
services in those directions where their regular occupa- 
tion or profession is not involved. Furthermore it is 



212 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

very important to foster a spirit of willingness to do 
some extra service for the world, even in one's occupa- 
tion, without always being remunerated for it. The 
teacher may dwell on the fact that many noble physi- 
cians do a great deal of gratuitous service of this kind, 
asking no pay whatever. The point could also be dis- 
cussed as to how far we may take pay for services 
rendered to personal friends, although this is rather a 
delicate problem. The points of ethical distinction in 
most of the questions having to do with this whole 
subject will readily be brought out by the class mem- 
bers themselves. If anything can be achieved in the 
way of removing the opprobrium attached to the word 
"service," the result would be worth the effort. We 
should strive to elevate this word and to make all people 
feel that they are mutual fellow servants, one of the 
other. There is a good point for illustration in the 
opening chapter of the novel "Adam Bede" by George 
Eliot, which the teacher could review and bring out 
before the class members; where the hero of the tale 
rebukes his brother for stopping work and throwing 
down the tools exactly at the stroke of the hour, in- 
stead of "finishing off" the work by continuing a few 
moments longer. In the way of a biography it might 
be well to introduce the story of the life of Mary Lyon, 
as bringing out the way a person may consecrate one's 
whole career to service. A sketch could be given of 
the trials and difficulties this woman underwent in order 
to educate herself, and how she devoted herself to the 
cause of the higher education of women in the fore- 
part of the nineteenth century, when colleges for 
women had scarcely come into existence. Tell the 
story of the sacrifices she made, how indifferent she 
was to her own welfare in order to accomplish this 
high purpose, and what grand results she finally 
achieved. We do not wish to make every young girl 
feel that she is to have a similar aim on a large scale. 
But it is well now and then to hold up the picture of a 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 213 

life in this way before young people, as an inspiration 
in showing what can be accomplished when the effort 
is truly made. The point can be brought out that the 
secret of the success of this woman was in her "Habits 
of Service." See the "Biography of Mary Lyon." 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

GENEROSITY AND STINGINESS. 

Proverbs or Verses. 

"Be just before you are generous." 

"The generous man enriches himself by giving, the miser 
hoards himself poor." 

"The stingy man is always poor." 

"The miser's friendship continues as long as he gains by it." 
" 'Tis strange the miser should his cares employ 
To gain those riches he can ne'er enjoy." 
"The only good that a miser does is to prove the little hap- 
piness there is to be found in wealth." 

"A nature accustomed to take is far from giving." 
"Give and spend and God will send." 

"Give at first asking what you can; 
It is certain gain to help an honest man." 
"If a niggard should once taste the sweetness of giving he 
would give all away." 

Dialogue. 

If a man always refuses to lend anything, under any 
circumstances, what do we say about him? "He is 
stingy," you assert. 

Suppose now you try to describe to me what you 
understand by the word "stingy." This is not the real 
subject we want to talk about today, but we must get 
an idea what this special word implies before we go on 
to the main topic for discussion. 

"Why," you explain, "it means close people; those 
persons who always hold on tight to their money, never 
giving anything to other people, or giving as little as 
they can possibly do, making no sacrifices for the rest 
of the world." 

What would you mean by a stingy boy or girl ? As a 
rule, young people do not have much money, and so 

214 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 215 

they cannot usually be stingy at least in that one di- 
rection. 

"Oh," you add, "it would perhaps be a boy or girl 
who never shared with others anything nice which 
they had. If they have some fruit or some candy, they 
keep it all to themselves. They do not like to divide 
with others. 

And what does stinginess spring from, do you think ; 
what sort of a feeling or habit or character? "Why," 
you point out, "it must come from selfishness." 

But what about lending? For instance, if you 
want to borrow something which you need very 
much, how would such a boy act? "Oh," you exclaim, 
"he would refuse to lend anything he has ; always liking 
to keep what belongs to him wholly for himself." 

But does it always imply stinginess if we refuse to 
lend something when we are asked for it? Would it 
be right for you every time to call a person by that 
word, who would not gratify your desire in this re- 
spect? "No," you say, "not necessarily." 

When do you think we may be justified in refusing 
to lend something? "Why," you tell me, "we may 
know the other boy or girl, and know that they never 
return what they borrow." You assume, then, that 
you could refuse such persons the favor without being 
stingy ? 

Suppose, on the other hand, the person wanting to 
borrow something from you, always does return what 
he receives and returns it with great care, would you 
ever be justified in refusing his request? 

"Sometimes," you insist. Under what circumstances ? 
For example, what sort of things would you especially 
dislike to lend to others? "Oh," you say, "the things 
that are very dear to us." Do you mean by that, things 
that have a great money value? "No," you answer, 
"not exactly that; but those things which have asso- 
ciations connected with them." 

What sort of objects, for instance? "Why," you 
tell me, "it may be some precious gift from father or 



2l5 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

mother; something which is sacred because of certain 
feelings or associations." 

You feel, then, do you, that it would be positively 
wrong sometimes to lend certain things, even if you 
knew they would be carefully returned ? You actually 
believe that a person could go so far as to do a wrong 
to the one who gave him something, by lending it to 
another? "Yes, sometimes," you assert; "it all de- 
pends on what the thing may be." 

But is there any other instance where it may be right 
for you to refuse to lend anything? What if the object 
asked for is something which you need very much your- 
self, and you are using it then, while the persons 
desiring it do not need it to the same extent? Would 
you be justified in refusing it? "Yes," you say, "we 
do not think it would be fair for the person to call us 
mean or stingy in that case." 

Then, after all, being unwilling to lend something 
is not always a good habit, nor is it always a bad 
habit." 

What if, however, you did happen to have some- 
thing which you were not needing at the moment, and 
you are sure it will be returned. But suppose you are 
pretty certain that the person who borrows it, will 
use it to a bad purpose, injuring himself in some way 
by using it, would it be right for you to lend it in that 
case ? "No," you assert, "decidedly not." 

Do people ever really grant a loan when they are 
quite sure it will work an injury? "Yes, sometimes," 
you admit. Why do they do it ? It may be unpleasant 
to themselves as well as work an injury to the other. 

"Oh," you tell me, "they do not like to be disagree- 
able, or to be called mean or close." 

Then sometimes it takes real courage, does it not, to 
refuse a loan ? One has to be willing to be called mean 
and to be looked upon as disagreeable, just in order to 
do the right thing, when on the outside it seems to 
others as if we were doing the mean thing. 

But now to come to the opposite virtue. What is its 
name? What is the word we give to the habit of 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 217 

those who are always willing to lend, where it is right 
to do so, and who always share nice things with others ? 
Can you think of the term? 

"Being generous," you answer. Yes, that is what 
I have in mind, "generosity." Put that word down, 
because it is a beautiful word. 

How are you going to describe it? What sort of a 
person would you call generous? "Oh," you explain, 
"just the opposite of a stingy person." Yes, but de- 
scribe it. 

"Well," you suggest, "it is the person who seems 
to like to give things to others, to share his pleasures 
with others. If anything nice comes to him, he seems 
to get more satisfaction in dividing it with others than 
having it all alone by himself. He is the person," you 
add, "who is willing to lend things to other people or 
who is not disagreeable when asked to do a favor." 

What kind of persons are liked most by others, 
stingy people, or generous people ? "Oh," you exclaim, 
"there is no doubt about that. We all like the gener- 
ous ones most." 

But why? "As to that," you assert, "we like them 
because we share in their generosity. We may get nice 
things from them. We can ask favors of them." 

Is that the only reason why you admire the gener- 
ous man ? Suppose you never shared in his generosity 
at all. What if he happened never to do anything for 
you. Do you admire him still? "Yes," you insist, 
"we like that sort of a man somehow. He is the sort 
of a man we always admire." 

You mean, then, do you, that it is the character of 
the person and not merely the favor he may do you, 
which leads you to like him or esteem him ? 

You say that a generous person is one who is will- 
ing to lend, or to give, or to share what belongs to 
himself. Then, for instance, if you have spent all the 
money that is given you, right away as soon as you 
receive it, and have shared it with others, you are a 
truly generous person, are you, and truly to be ad- 
mired? "Yes," you assure me, "that is generosity." 



2l8 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

Now wait a moment. Is that true generosity ? What 
if it was given to you by your father and mother and 
they were hoping that you would save a part of it for 
a future time, perhaps in order to help educate your- 
self; but you go and spend it in order to seem open- 
hearted. Is that true generosity? "No, not exactly,'' 
you tell me. 

Again : What if there is some one in the home 
whom you do not care so much about, who may, how- 
ever, be sick or in need of something, and you might 
share your money or your nice things with that per- 
son. But on the other hand, suppose you go out to 
some other individual whom you are fond of, and 
divide with that person. Is that true generosity? 

"Not altogether," you hesitate. What makes the 
difference ? "Why," you point out, "it may depend on 
the person to whom we show our generosity." Then, 
being truly generous sometimes means sharing what 
you have with a person whom you are not so fond of, 
rather than with those whom you most like. 

Or again. What if you go and share what you have, 
with somebody else who will praise you for it, and who 
will tell others about it, so that you will be thought 
highly of by others; and, on the other hand, do not 
share it with some one who may say very little about 
it or not praise you. Is that true generosity? "No, 
not quite," you confess. 

But why not ? "Oh," you reply, "because the motive 
is not exactly right." Yes, I answer, but the giving 
is there just the same, the snaring takes place. "True," 
you say; "yet being generous means more than that. 
It implies doing it from the right sort of motive." 
You really think, then, do you, that showing generosity 
in order to be praised, is not the true kind ? 

One other point right in this connection. Some- 
times persons ask things outright from us, not merely 
as a loan, but as a gift. They may tell us they are 
hungry, and ask for food. What do you usually do 
under those circumstances? 

"Oh," you continue, "if we know they are really 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 2IO, 

hungry we try to give them something to eat, or else 
money to buy food with." But what if you know the 
person is half-intoxicated, and he will go and use the 
money to make himself more so? Is that showing 
true generosity? "Not by any manner of means," you 
exclaim. 

If so, what is it? You make a sacrifice when you 
give him the money. 

"Why," you tell me, "it may be just the opposite. 
It may be sheer selfishness." How is that possible? 
"Well," you answer, "one may do it because it would 
be a worse sacrifice to be called disagreeable, or to 
seem mean." 

Then, as a matter of fact, it is true that sometimes 
giving may come positively from selfishness and not 
be true generosity at all ? 

You say that generosity implies sharing your goods 
with other persons, in order to make them happy. I 
wonder if you have ever heard of people who were 
generous to their friends, but who neglected their own 
children, or their own family, perhaps never seeming 
to have quite enough money to pay their bills, or to 
improve their home. 

I ask you, are such persons called generous? "Yes," 
you say, "they are usually considered so," Is their 
conduct from a selfish motive? "No," you assert, "it 
may be from real kindness and not for a selfish 
reason." 

Then do you call it true generosity? "No," you 
assure me, "it is not exactly the true kind." Why not? 
I ask ; if the motive is not a selfish one. Do you actu- 
ally mean to say that sometimes we have to suppress 
kindly feelings, or a disposition to give of what we 
have? 

"Yes," you assert, "sometimes we actually ought to 
refuse to do such a service." But why? "Oh," you 
add, "for the sake of those who are at home, for the 
sake of others who are dependent upon us." 

Then, after all, there is a form of generosity which, 



220 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

though not quite selfish, is wrong, because it does not 
regard those who may be dependent upon us. 

Is there, however, a true generosity which is always 
admirable, and always good? "Yes, we think there 
must be," you say. 

Can you define it, or explain it? "Perhaps," you 
continue, "it means being ready to share with others 
the good things we have, in order to give help or 
pleasure, where we may not be sacrificing the interests 
of those who are dependent on us, and not neglecting 
a true regard for our own improvement." 

It turns out, then, that even generosity obliges us 
to consider what is right or good for ourselves, as well 
as what is right or good for others. 

Points of the Lesson. 

I. That stinginess means not sharing with others and 
springs from selfishness. 

II. That refusing a loan may be stinginess, — but not al- 
ways. 

III. That it may be right sometimes to refuse a loan. 

IV. That generous people are those who are willing to do 
for others and share with others. 

V. That we naturally admire the generous person. 

VI. That sharing with others may not be generosity, (a) if 
the object may have been given us for another purpose, (b), if 
we share with outsiders when those dependent on us need it, 
(c) if sharing with others may do them injury, (d) if it is 
done for praise or in order not to be disagreeable. 

VII. That generosity depends on the motive and thought 
behind it. 

VIII. That refusing a favor may sometimes be the truest 
generosity. 

Duties. 

/. In cultivating the spirit of generosity, we ought 
not to give to others what may be much needed by 
those who are dependent on us. 

II. In cultivating the spirit of generosity, we 
should always consider, in giving to others, whether 
the gift might do good or harm to them^ 

III. In our acts of generosity we should try to 
consider where they will render the most service. 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 221 

Poem. 

Some people roam the fields and hills, 

And others work in noisy mills; 

Some dress in silks, and dance and play, 

While others drudge their lives away; 

Some glow with health and bound with song, 

And some must suffer all day long. 

Which is your lot, my girl and boy? 

Is it a life of ease and joy? 

Ah, if it is, its glowing sun 

The poorer life should shine upon. 

Make glad one little heart today, 

And help one burdened child to play. 

— Anonymous. 

Further Suggestions to the Teacher. — This lit- 
tle gem in verse has fine sentiment in it and should be 
talked over with the class members. Take care not to 
confuse acts of generosity or kindliness with what is 
now called charity. We should not wish to discourage 
acts of charity. But we can point out that this latter 
kind of giving must usually be more indirect, either 
through donations of money, or in the way of assisting 
others to do the work for us, as in Charity Societies. 
But the points of this lesson are concerned rather with 
personal or private deeds which may require a sacrifice 
or call for individual effort, where two persons may 
be brought into close relationship with each other, and 
one must render a service to the other. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

CHEATING. 

Proverbs or Verses. 

"A clean mouth and an honest hand 
Will take a man through any land." 
"A nod of an honest man is enough." 
"An honest countenance is the best passport." 
"An honest man has half as much more brains as he needs! 
a knave hath not half enough." 

"An honest man is none the worse because a dog barks at 
him." . 

"An honest man is the noblest work of God." — Pope. 
"Honest men are bound, but you cannot bind a knave." 
"Honesty is the best policy ; but he who acts on that princi- 
ple is not an honest man." — Archbishop Whately. 
"No honest man ever repented of his honesty." 
"To be honest as this world goes, is to be one man picked 
out of ten thousand." — Shakespeare. 

Dialogue. 

Today we must speak of one very bad habit, and 
you will know what it is the moment I mention it. 

Suppose two boys are playing at checkers. One of 
them happens to look away for a moment, and the 
other changes the place of the checkers slightly in his 
own favor, while the boy looking away fails to see it. 
What do you call that? 

"Cheating," you say. Is that the name you give it ? 
What do you think about it? "Oh," you assert, "it is 
mean." How mean; just a little so? "No," you an- 
swer, "awfully mean." 

But is it ever done? Would a boy ever cheat in 
that way? "Yes," you admit, "it does happen some- 
times." 

But why is it so mean, as you say? "Because it is 
not playing fair," you answer. "It is winning the 

222 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 22$ 

game when one does not deserve to win it." Then, 
what does that boy do to the other? "Steals the 
game," you assert. Yes. It is certainly like stealing, 
to cheat at a game. 

How is it that boys and girls can cheat at play ? Can 
you describe how it is ever done? For instance, at 
baseball ? Or in other games ? 

What if two persons were racing? How do you 
think one could cheat in order to win the race? 

Note to the Teacher. — It would be worth while to go on 
drawing out the discussion for a long while at this point, even 
perhaps taking a whole lesson for the purpose. Just let the 
young people name over possible ways that cheating might 
occur. The mere mention of the forms in which it could hap- 
pen would be an influence against it; simply putting it in lan- 
guage or having it described. It would be well for the teacher 
also to write down and preserve what the children say, with the 
descriptions they give of different methods of cheating. This 
feature would perhaps answer for one entire session before we 
go on to a further consideration of the habit of cheating. 

Did you ever hear of a boy who cheated at school ? 
What does it mean? 

"Why," you explain, "he may look into his book 
when he is reciting or at examinations, or use other 
false methods in order to be able to give an answer." 

And whom is he cheating then ? "Oh," you tell me, 
"he is cheating the teacher." Yes, but is that all; 
anybody else? How about the other boys and girls? 

"Yes," you admit, "perhaps he may be cheating 
them too." But in what way? "Why," you con- 
tinue, "he may get ahead of them, by that means 
receiving higher marks; or he may show off to the 
other boys and girls, and seem to them to know a 
great deal more than he does." 

Then, apparently, according to your account, in act- 
ing that way we may not only cheat our playmates or 
those of our own age, but cheat grown people too. 

What is the feeling we suddenly have when we dis- 
cover that a person has been cheating us? "Why," 
you answer, "we dislike him. We don't want to play 
with him any more." But is that all ? 

Suppose we knew that a person would cheat others. 



224 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

Then, if we had something valuable we intended to 
put in the hands of another person to be taken care of, 
would we put it into the hands of one we know to have 
cheated at any time? "Not by any manner of means," 
you answer. But why not? 

"Oh," you exclaim, "we could not trust him. He 
might not take good care of it, or he might run away 
with it." 

What is it that one always loses in the minds of 
others by cheating? "As to that," you say, "one loses 
the trust or the confidence of others." Yes, you are 
right. But how will those others act toward the one 
who cheats? Will they believe his word? "No," you 
tell me, "they will think perhaps he is lying." 

In school, for instance, how will the teacher act 
toward the boy or girl who cheats, and is known to 
cheat? "Why," you add, "the teacher will have to 
watch them all the time and will not trust them." 

Do you suppose, however, that before the teacher 
discovered it, he trusted them? "Yes," you say. And 
when we are playing a game, if we do not know a 
person cheats, we trust him, do we not? "Surely," 
you answer. 

Then why is it— to come back to the first point — 
that we think it so awfully mean to cheat ? "Oh," you 
exclaim, 'it is because a person trusts us, and if we 
cheat, we are going back on that trust." 

Suppose we write that down : "Cheating is a breach 
of trust." What is it that a person is supposed to lose, 
who has been cheating and has been found out." 

It is described in a word of two syllables, beginning 
with "h." Can you think of it now? "Honor," you 
suggest? Yes. 

Among grown people we say the man who cheats 
has lost his honor. Which persons do you think some- 
times are most despised ; the man who cheats, or the 
man who deliberately steals? "As to that," you tell 
me, "perhaps the man who cheats may be despised 
even more." But why? I ask. 

''Well," you add, "it may be because he has not 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 225 

only stolen something which belongs to us, but he has 
broken trust with us/' Yes, I suspect that is true. 
Cheating seems often worse than downright stealing. 

Do you think it matters so very much sometimes in 
play if we cheat just a little; move something very 
slightly so as to help us the least bit? Do you think 
that is ever done? ''We are afraid it is," you reply. 

But if it is just the least bit, why should it matter? 
"It is cheating just the same," you assert. And would 
anything worse come by doing it the least bit? Do 
you think a person who began that way, would al- 
ways cheat only a very little ? 

"No," you say, "by and by he would begin to cheat 
more and more, until he would have the regular habit 
of cheating." 

What do you think, by the way, of the difference 
between cheating at play and cheating at work? Sup- 
pose, on the one hand, a person cheats at a game, and 
again in making change of money in some business 
transaction. Which would seem the worse? 

"Well," you answer, "they both are very bad." But 
which usually would come first, if one began to form 
the habit? Does one usually begin by cheating in 
serious matters, or in play? 

"More likely," you tell me, "in play." But why? 
"Oh," you point out, "perhaps because it does not seem 
quite as bad." Why should it not seem quite so bad? 
"Well, just because it is play." But it is cheating, is 
it not, all the same? "Yes," you assert, "it is certainly 
cheating." 

Do you suppose that if a person falls a little into the 
habit of cheating at play, by and by he may cheat in 
business when he grows up? What do you say as to 
that ? Or do you think he may outgrow the habit and 
become honest and upright when he is a grown man? 
"We are afraid not," you reply. But why? "Oh/' you 
tell me, "he has acquired the habit, and it is cheating 
just the same, even if it is in play." 

True, I am inclined to think that many persons in 
our state prisons, the convicts, have begun their bad 



226 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

ways by cheating as children, until by and by they got 
used to it, and then found it easy to cheat in serious 
matters. And so perhaps you are right that one is just 
as bad as the other, cheating in games or cheating in 
the matter of money. 

But speaking of cheating in small ways ; can you see 
how one could cheat in borrowing, when returning 
something one had borrowed ? "Yes," you say, "one 
might not return it at all." Yes, but that would be 
downright stealing." 

"Well," you continue, "one might return it in part." 
Yes, but that would be stealing just the same. What 
if you were returning a book. How could you cheat 
about it? "Why," you explain, "one might have torn 
a leaf in a book and not say anything about it." 

Yes, that would be a bad way of cheating. But that 
may happen quite often. People dislike, when they have 
borrowed anything, to own they have injured it. 

Blut again. Suppose one borrows a thing, and uses 
it, expecting to return something else equally good. 
How could one cheat? "Why," you say, "one might 
return something which has been injured slightly, and 
not quite as nice, although at first this would not be 
apparent." 

How does one feel, when one finds out that sort of a 
thing, after one has lent something and it is returned ? 
"Oh, one feels disgusted," you answer, "and never 
wants to lend anything again." You mean that one 
would not like to lend anything to other people either? 
"Yes," you say, "that is the feeling. It makes one re- 
solve somehow never to lend anything again to any- 
body." 

But why? You have only lost your confidence in 
that one person. "No," you assert, "it is more than 
that. We never have quite as much confidence in 
anybody." 

Then, when a person cheats, what else does he do, 
besides making other people lose trust in him? "Oh," 
you tell me, "he somehow can make people lose trust 
in everybody." If that is the case, in cheating we not 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 22J 

only injure one person directly, but we injure everybody 
in the world, do we not ? 

And so you see that cheating seems almost worse 
than stealing. We are not afraid that everybody will 
steal, even if one person steals. But if a man cheats 
us, somehow we do not seem to have the same confi- 
dence in anybody afterwards. 

Suppose, however, one cheats and is not found out, 
then he has not lost the confidence of other people? 
"No." But has he lost anything? "No," you reply, 
"people still trust him, and perhaps he has even gained 
something by his cheating." But now look at it from 
another side. 

What if a boy or girl has cheated a few times and 
finally says : "Now I will not cheat any more ; I am 
going to stop this right off." You think it perfectly 
sure, then, do you not, that he will never cheat again ? 
"On the contrary," you answer, "it is quite probable 
that he will do so again." 

But what about that resolution? He meant it, did 
he not ? He intended to keep it ? 

"That is true," you tell me, "but he had begun to 
cheat, got started in it, and it is not so easy to stop." 
You mean, then, do you, that a man, having once be- 
gun to cheat, cannot trust himself, when he makes a 
resolution of that kind? 

What then has he lost? He has not lost other 
people's trust in him. "No," you reply, "but he has 
lost his trust in himself." 

And so a man can lose confidence in himself by 
cheating, even when he continues still to retain his 
honor in the eyes of other people. What do we call 
that trust in ones self, — self what? "Self-respect," 
you say? Yes, that is the word. 

Cheating is sure to kill one's self-respect. One may 
make all the good resolutions in the world. Yet one 
may go right on and do mean things, until by and by 
it will come natural to be mean. 

Yet do you suppose that a person who' has fallen 
into the habit of cheating, ever goes through life with- 



228 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

out being found out? "Perhaps so," you answer. I 
doubt it. He may not be known to cheat exactly. But 
people will somehow suspect him. 

But why will they suspect him for something ? Will 
he have a frank and open manner, so that people will 
like him? "No," you admit, "more likely he will be 
cautious and very careful. He will seem to show that 
he is afraid lest people may find him out." 

Yes, that is true. In cheating, a person is sure to be 
found out one way or the other. One is found out first 
by one's self, in losing one's self-respect, and then one is 
found out by other people directly or indirectly. 

Which do you suppose is worse; to lose one's own 
self-respect, or to lose the respect of other people? 
"Well," you add, "perhaps one would sooner lose one's 
own self-respect." Why? "Oh, well," you continue, 
"one would still be respected by other people, and they 
would still be one's friends." 

Yes, but what could you do, if you lost your self- 
respect? You could not trust yourself. If you resolved 
to do a thing, you could not be sure that you would 
do it. You might go and do the very thing you had 
not intended. 

Does it not seem as if it would be actually worse to 
lose one's own self-respect than the respect of other 
people? "It looks that way," you answer. 

Points of the Lesson. 

I. That cheating is mean — it is like stealing. 

II. That in cheating at school we cheat both the teacher and 
our fellow-pupils. 

III. That we dislike people who cheat. 

IV. That by cheating we lose the confidence or trust of 
others. 

V. That cheating is a breach of trust, almost worse than 
stealing. 

VI. That cheating just a little means sometime later on 
cheating a good deal. 

VII. That those who cheat or steal in more serious mat- 
ters when grown up, began by cheating at play when children. 

VIII. That one can cheat in borrowing and returning. 

IX. That by cheating one loses one's trust in one's self, 
even if not found out by others. 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 229 

X. That by cheating a person we make him lose confidence 
in everybody. 

Poem. 

' ' The Pied Piper of Hamelin, ' ' by Eobert Browning. 

Further Suggestions to the Teacher. — On this 
subject of cheating something might be said about 
loaded dice and the baseness of such a thing. There 
could be mention of dice in connection with "back-gam- 
mon." Then the children could be asked if they under- 
stood what loaded dice meant. It might be told how 
loaded dice had been found in buried cities, e.g. Pompeii, 
showing how wicked some people were even then and 
how they cheated thousands of years ago. The term 
loaded dice is fitting to be associated with cheating. 
There is something about it so utterly despicable. The 
most important part of the lesson perhaps, is the dis- 
cussion connected with cheating about very little 
things ; not being very careful about returning what one 
has borrowed ; or in games, not always acting in a per- 
fectly frank, open way, or taking unfair advantage on 
slight points, standing up for one's self when one is not 
quite sure that one is right. It may be advisable to 
discuss other kindred forms of bad conduct along with 
this general subject of cheating and associate them 
together in the minds of the young. Many bad forms 
of conduct can be introduced along with this subject of 
cheating, because it is a habit which every boy or girl 
despises, even when they are inclined to it a little them- 
selves. There is no term they can fling at each other, 
which is felt more keenly than the cry: "You are a 
cheat," or "you are cheating." 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

PREJUDICES. 

Proverbs or Verses. 

"Do not judge of the ship from the land." 

"Do not judge of a ship when it is on the stocks." 

"Never judge by appearances." 

"The cold neutrality of an impartial judge." — Burke. 

"Who judges others, condemns himself." 

"Ycu cannot judge of the horse by the harness." 

"A man's own opinion is never wrong!" 

"A single conversation across the table with a wise man is 
better than ten years' study of books." — Chinese. 

"No man is the only wise man." 

"No man is born wise." 

"No one is wise enough to advise himself." 

"Do not judge of the tree by its bark nor of the man by his 
exterior." 

Dialogue. 

Are all persons reasonable persons, do you think? 
"What do I mean by that?" you ask. 

When, for instance, you are talking with others and 
they give their opinions, does it always seem as if they 
were wise or perfectly clear in what they say, with 
good reasons for their opinions ? "Oh no indeed,' , you 
smile, "just the contrary." 

Do you tell me that people can have opinions, with- 
out having good reasons for them ? "Yes, any number 
of them," you answer. But how is that possible ? They 
can think, can they not ? They have minds. They can 
reason. How then, can they have such opinions? 

"As to the 'why' of it, or the 'how' of it," you add, 
"we cannot say. Only we know well enough that 
people oftentimes do talk and give opinions, without 
being very sensible in the way they talk, or without 
having good reasons for what they say." 

230 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 21,1 

But why should they talk in that way ? Why do they 
not at least keep silent and not talk at all? "Oh, well," 
you assure me, "they may think they have good rea- 
sons. They do not know that they are not sensible 
in their opinions." 

And so it is possible, is it, for a person to have 
opinions and assume he has good reasons for them, 
and yet to be quite mistaken and to be quite unreason- 
able? "Yes," you admit, "it looks that way." 

But how do you know this? Perhaps you may be 
the person lacking in judgment, when you think that 
other persons do not always have good reasons for 
their opinions. 

"True," you insist, "but how is it possible that two 
persons can believe they have the best reasons for their 
opinions, when their opinions do not agree?" I am 
afraid you have asked me a hard question. It does not 
really look as if people could have views and could talk, 
without always having the best of reasons for what 
they say. 

But if they have not good reasons for their opinions 
what makes them talk that way? How do they come 
to have those views ? Where do they get them ? What 
is it that influences them? "Oh," you say, "it is the 
feelings. A person may not try to think carefully or 
be very reasonable in what he thinks. He may feel 
very strongly about a subject and speak just according 
to his feelings." 

Then you imply that a person's feelings can mislead 
him, make him have wrong opinions, give him mis- 
taken views about people or about things. "Yes, in- 
deed," you answer. 

But from what other source can we get these mis- 
taken views or be led to think what is not true? It 
may be that sometimes we hold thoughts or opinions 
which have not been influenced by our feelings. Where 
do these come from ? 

"Oh," you explain, "they may come from other peo- 
ple; we may hear what other people say and take 



2$2 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

their views without thinking, and adopt such views 
for our own." 

You mean, do you, that in this way, we may come 
to have wrong views just merely by catching them 
from other people? "It looks that way," you admit. 
Now what do we call these opinions we have, where 
we are without good reason for them — opinions which 
come to us just from other people or which we have 
been led to form through the influence of our feelings. 

It is a long word I have in mind and a very impor- 
tant one. Suppose I write it down. 

It begins with the letters p-r-e-j. Do you know 
what is coming? "Yes," you tell me, "it is prejudice." 
But can you tell me how that word came to be used, 
why it should apply to people's thoughts or opinions 
formed in that way? Look at the word again. Sup- 
pose we take it to pieces. There is first the "p-r-e," 
and then the "j-u-d." What word of five letters begins 
with j-u-d? "Judge," you suggest. 

Now do you see how the word is made up, and 
how it explains what a person does wi'en he has a 
prejudice? "Why," you point out, "he pre -judges." 
True, and what does that mean? "It would imply," 
you answer, "that he judges beforehand." Yes, but 
beforehand in what way? "Why," you continue, "he 
makes up his mind before he has good reasons for 
doing so." 

How many people in the world, do you fancy, have 
prejudices? "Oh," you smile, "a good many." Yes, but 
how many? Tell me the number. "Well," you sug- 
gest, "perhaps most everybody." Do you mean to say 
that there is scarcely a person living who may not 
prejudge sometimes? "Scarcely anybody," you insist. 

But now, with regard to these opinions which we 
hold without good reasons, and which we call pre- 
judices, what subject do they usually pertain to? Are 
they more often concerning the moon and the stars, 
the shape of the earth, concerning plants and animals, 
and that sort of thing? "No, indeed," you assert, 
"more often they are about people ; about some person 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 233 

we know or have heard of." Yes, I am afraid that is 
true. 

Why is this, do you suppose? "It may be," you 
explain, "because we are more interested in people 
than we are in things." 

But as to our prejudices concerning people, let me 
ask you; do we have them more with regard to peo- 
ple we like or with regard to people we dislike? "Oh, 
surely," you tell me, "we have them more often with 
regard to people we dislike." 

Why ? I ask you. "Because," you tell me, "when we 
dislike people we do not stop to reason much about 
their conduct. We let ourselves be influenced by uvs 
feelings and so form opinions with regard to them, 
whether we have good reasons or not." 

If some one gives you an opinion about a person 
whom he dislikes and you happen to know of that dis- 
like, do you feel safe in taking such a person's judg- 
ment? "No, quite the contrary," you say. 

You mean, then, do you, that having a dislike for 
a person makes it pretty sure that we shall not be fair 
or just in our judgment about him? "Yes, indeed," 
you reply. 

Then why are we so ready to have opinions about 
people we dislike? We know we do not trust other 
people's views under such circumstances. "Oh," you 
say, "it is a habit. It comes natural to think bad 
things about persons we dislike or who dislike us." 

But do you suppose it happens on the one hand that 
we can have prejudices against people for whom we 
have no such feeling? How would that be possible? 
We should not be influenced in that case by personal 
feelings, should we? 

"It does happen," you say. But how can it happen, 
I keep on asking? What makes it possible, if we don't 
have feelings influencing us in the matter? "Yes," 
you insist, "but there are the feelings of other people." 
What do you mean by that? "Why," you explain, 
"they may have their prejudices because of feelings 
which they cherish." 



234 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

You imply, then, do you, that prejudices are con- 
tagious, like diseases? You smile at that, I see. But 
could it happen? "Yes, indeed," you say, "certainly." 
True. We may catch opinions about other people in 
that way, without any reasons, when the opinions are 
unfair, just as we catch contagious diseases. 

What kind of persons, would you say, are most in- 
clined to have prejudices? "Oh, those who are most 
inclined to be unreasonable," you answer. 

Yes. But why are they inclined to be unreasonable? 
"Because," you suggest, "it may have become a habit 
with them to form opinions without thinking." And 
what did we say it meant to form opinions without 
thinking ; being influenced by what ? "By the feelings." 

Then you assume, that one can fall into the habit 
of letting one's self form opinions just from one's 
feelings rather than by thinking at all? "Yes," you 
answer, "surely." 

But how about holding judgment we catch from 
other people? "Why, that may be habit, too," you 
continue. 

In what way? I ask. "Oh," you explain, "a person 
can be careless about thinking for himself, when he 
hears the opinions of others; he may just take them 
as a matter of course and agree with them or believe 
them; and so they become prejudices." 

You have said that we have prejudices concerning 
persons. Do you mean, only about persons whom we 
know? "More often, at any rate," you imply. But are 
they always of that kind ? Is it possible for us to "pre- 
judge" about a great many people all taken together? 

Do you think that we could have prejudices in re- 
gard to the people of China? "Yes," you smile, 
"surely." What kind, for instance? 

"Why," you suggest, "we might be unfair in our 
opinions of them; speak of them, for example, as if 
they knew less than they really know, or were a worse 
kind of people than we are, or had worse habits than 
we have. We could think of them as being inferior 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 235 

to ourselves in more ways than they really are in- 
ferior." 

Wht sort of a prejudice do you call that? Suppose 
I give you a term for it. That would be a race 
prejudice. It would imply that we were unfair or un- 
just in our opinions about people, because they belong 
to a certain race. 

And so you see we can "pre- judge" not only in 
regard to people we know, but with regard to people 
we don't know. 

Do you fancy it might ever happen that a person 
could come before you, whom you had never seen, 
whose name you did not know, and yet about whom 
you might feel a prejudice before he said a word to 
you? 

"Yes, that might happen," you say. How? I ask. 
"Oh," you answer, "he might belong to a race like the 
Chinese, whom we are inclined to despise." In that 
case, then, you mean that it would not be easy for you 
to be fair in your opinions about him, before you had 
became acquainted with him ? "Yes," you admit, "that 
would be possible." 

Do you think, by the way, that we could ever have 
prejudices about people whom we are fond of? "Yes, 
if having a prejudice means pre-judging," you assure 
me. 

How would this be possible? "Why," you point out, 
"we might excuse everything such a person did, per- 
haps blaming the same sort of conduct in other people, 
that we should not blame in such a person." 

How could that happen? "Because," you tell me, 
"we should pre-judge everything the person did, owing 
to our fondness for him." I suppose you are right. 

But let me ask you another question there on that 
point. Which is the more dangerous, do you think, 
having prejudices about people we like, or about those 
we dislike? Which could do the more harm ? "Why," 
you answer, "probably those we have about the people 
we dislike." 

There is, however, one other point we have not 



2$6 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

mentioned. You said that more often we had prejudices 
about people than about things. Is it not true that 
we can have them also about things? How about 
the moon, for example? You know that many people 
fancy that the weather is influenced by changes in the 
moon. "Oh, yes," you tell me. 

But is that true? "You do not know?" Well, I can 
tell you. The moon does not really influence the 
weather. 

Then how do you explain the fact that some people 
believe this ? Do you think they have good reasons for 
their opinion? "Probably not," you answer. Where 
did they get those opinions, then? "Oh, from other 
people," you suggest. Yes, they caught them by con- 
tagion. You see, people can have prejudices about 
things as well as people. 

But which kind do the most harm ? Which form do 
we especially need to be on our guard against, if we 
want to be honest and true? "Oh, the prejudices about 
people, surely," you say. 

Points of the Lesson. 

I. That to have a prejudice means to pre-judge — to judge 
without good reasons. 

II. That prejudices start in the feelings, especially with re- 
gard to people whom we do not like. 

III. That we may acquire prejudices as people acquire dis- 
eases, by contagion — taking what other people say, without 
using any thought concerning it. 

IV. That we may have prejudices against individuals or 
against whole classes of people, such as race-prejudices. 

V. That we may have prejudices about things as well as 
about people — by taking up with what persons tell us, without 
studying the matter at all. 

VI. That prejudices may injure the one who feels them, even 
more than the ones against whom they are directed. We are 
degraded by our prejudices. 

Duties. 

/. We ought to judge with our reason, and not 
through our feelings. 

IL We ought to watch our language whenever any- 
thing we have to say may work an injury to another. 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 237 

Poem. 

*Tis well to walk with a cheerful heart 

Wherever our fortunes call, 
With a friendly glance and an open hand 

And a gentle word for all. 

Since life is a thorny and difficult path, 

Where toil is the portion of man, 
We all should endeavor, while passing along 

To make it as smooth as we can. 

— Anonymous. 

Further Suggestions to the Teacher : Continue 
,vith this subject, illustrating according to the special 
local conditions of the pupils of the school, dealing with 
those prejudices to which they are especially subject. 
On the other hand, we shall have to be exceedingly 
cautious lest we stir up bad feelings and touch the 
sores to the quick. There are few subjects in the 
realm of ethics in a practical direction, which require 
such important treatment and yet which are so diffi- 
cult to handle as this one concerning prejudices. We 
deal with it first as a habit, and we shall take it up 
again in a future series of lessons in the study of the 
"Feelings." Under certain circumstances or with pupils 
of a certain age we could touch on religious preju- 
dices and the danger from them. We might point out 
the prejudices which come from the use of mere words 
or names. This is a very important phase to be con- 
sidered. Our illustrations must in all cases be adapted 
to the age of the pupils, their home education, the city 
or country in which they live. We must make them 
feel that one of the great duties of life is to fight one's 
prejudices, and that the more one gives in to them, the 
lower one is ; that the more one conquers them, the 
more truly rational, that is the more truly a man one 
becomes. We are to assure the pupils that having 
prejudices is degrading; that it makes us more like 
brutes ; that it leads us to be careless about using our 
minds. Throw an element of contempt around the 
very notion of prejudices. On the other hand, take 
care that the pupils do not get to thinking about pre- 



238 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

judices which other people have, rather than about those 
which they themselves cherish. This form of analysis 
is always at the danger point of fostering a study of 
other people's bad habits rather than the bad habits in 
one's self. We must make children see that it is much 
worse for a person to feel a prejudice in himself against 
others, than to have others feel a prejudice against 
him. This, however, is a feature which is not at first 
appreciated and which should be dwelt upon a good 
deal. We can show how a person is degraded by hav- 
ing a prejudice towards others, and yet can be indiffer- 
ent to the prejudices felt on the part of others toward 
himself. 






CHAPTER XXIX. 
RESPECT FOR THE PROPERTY OF OTHERS. 

Proverbs or Verses. 

"Measure not others' corn by your own bushel." 

"Just scales and full measure injure no man." 

"Better twice measured than once wrong." 

"He who will steal a pin will steal a better thing." 

"It is wit to pick a lock and steal a horse, but wisdom to let 

it alone." 

"He who steals once is never trusty." 

"'Who steals an egg will soon steal an ox." 

"A thief does not always thieve, but be always on your 

guard against him." 

"A thief thinks every man steals." 

"First a turnip, then a sheep, next a cow, and then the 

gallows. ' ' 

"He who will have no judge but himself, condemns himself." 
"How is he greater than I, if he had not more justice?" 

Dialogue. 

Note to the Teacher. — It would be advisable, at the start, 
in this lesson to have a picture of a pair of scales in the hand 
— or, better still, a small pair of actual scales which could be 
held up before the class. 

You will recognize this thing I hold in my hand. 
What do we call it? "Scales," you suggest. 

And what are they for? "Weighing things." Yes, 
we take that for granted. But what kinds of things 
do we weigh in such scales? "Why, every kind of 
thing," you exclaim. "Anything that has weight." 

Words, for instance? Things that people say? 
Could these be put in scales? "No," you smile, "not 
exactly." Why not? "Because," you insist, "they are 
not exactly things. They do not have body." That 
means, does it, that we really only weigh in the scales 
an object which has body to it? 

"True," you assert, "but we do sometimes speak of 



240 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

weighing people's words or even the actions of peo- 
ple." Yes. That is what we call a figure of speech and 
it means a great deal. 

But why should we have scales to weigh things ? "As 
to that," you tell me, "we may want to see whether 
one thing is heavier than another." 

What kinds of objects, however, are most often 
weighed, do you suppose? Where are scales more 
often used? "In stores or shops?" And what is it that 
will be put in the scales ? "The things that one is going 
to buy," you answer. 

And what are those things ? I keep asking. To whom 
do they belong? "Oh, they belong to the man who is 
selling them," you continue. 

Then what do we call them, so far as he is con- 
cerned ? They are his, — what ? "His property ?" Pre- 
cisely. That is the point. Scales are more often used 
in order to weigh property. 

And what do we mean by Property? "Why," you 
explain, "it is something that a person owns or that he 
has a right to, something which belongs to him, or 
something which he can do with as he pleases." Do all 
persons have such property, would you say ? 

"Surely," you reply, "every person owns something, 
whether it be very little or very much." 

If now, for instance, a person should come along and 
pick up something belonging to you and start to walk 
away with it, what would you exclaim? "That's mine?" 
But why would you say that? 

"Because," you tell me, "we should want to make 
the other person understand that he should let our 
things alone and not interfere with what belongs to 
us." You mean then, do you, that you have rights 
over certain things all by yourself. "Surely," you in- 
sist. 

But what possible reason could anybody have for 
coming along and taking something belonging to you ? 
What motive would there be for it? What sense in it? 
"As to that," you explain, "perhaps it would be only in 
play." 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 24 1 

But if it were in earnest, what would it imply ? "Oh, 
it would be mean, or because the one who did it was a 
mean person." True, and why should he be mean in 
that way? Why should he take what is yours? 

"Because he wants it for himself," you say. What 
is he then interfering with, so far as you are concerned ? 
"Why, one's rights," you exclaim. Rights over what? 
"Rights over one's property," you answer. 

Do you think it ever actually happens that a person 
positively takes something belonging to another and 
keeps it for himself? "Yes," you admit, "it does hap- 
pen." 

Does he always take it in order to keep it? Suppose 
he should just pick it up, and you knew well that he 
would give it back by and by. Would you then be 
liable to cry out, "That's mine?" "Perhaps," you ad- 
mit. And why? I ask. 

"Because," you insist, "he is interfering with one's 
rights over one's property even if he takes it only for 
a while. He may not do that without asking permis- 
sion." 

What do we call it when a man deliberately takes 
something belonging to another and carries it away 
with the intention of keeping it? "Stealing," you sug- 
gest. Oh, but that is something bad, exceedingly bad. 
We should call it a crime. "True," you exclaim, "but 
that is just what it would mean; it would be stealing." 

And how should we speak of the person who com- 
mitted the act? What should we call him? "Thief?" 

But are all persons who take things belonging to an- 
other, called by such a bad name? Actual thieves, as 
you know, are locked up, put in prison. - "Oh, well," 
you suggest, "perhaps for those who take only little 
things, the name might seem too severe." 

What do you mean by little things ? I ask. Suppose 
that another boy or girl carried off your pencil. Would 
he be considered an outright thief? "Perhaps not quite 
as bad as that," you tell me. What if one were merely 
to pick up a sheet of paper belonging to another and use 



242 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

it without asking permission ? He would not be taken 
by the police and put in prison, would he? 

"No," you smile, "probably not. But still it would 
be a kind of stealing," you assert. Why? "Because it 
is the same principle, nevertheless," you answer. "He 
is taking what belongs to another." 

What is it, do you suppose, that is most often stolen 
by actual thieves, who are locked up in prison? 
"Money. But only very bad people, actual criminals, 
ever steal money," you tell me. 

That may be true, I admit. You think it would be 
positively dreadful, do you, if any one actually took 
money from another? You would call that a crime? 

But what would be the difference, I ask, between an 
act of that kind and the conduct of a boy or girl who 
merely picked up a sheet of paper belonging to another 
person and used it? Would such an act be actually 
stealing? "Yes," you hesitate, "although perhaps not 
quite in the same sense." In what way? I ask. 

"Oh," you continue, "he might take a trifle like that, 
and yet not for a moment be ready to steal money." 

But how would he excuse himself ? "He might say," 
you tell me, "that the person who owned it would not 
care much ; that it was a very trifling thing ; he could 
give another sheet of paper back the next day, if the 
person wanted it." 

Yet if it happened to be your sheet of paper that you 
had been wishing to use, would you mind it? "Yes, in- 
deed," you exclaim. How would you feel? "Oh, we 
might be indignant or even angry. It would not be 
right or honest for him to act in that way," you insist. 

How is it possible, then, that a boy or girl could do 
such a thing? "Why, perhaps he would not regard it 
exactly as stealing," you explain. "He felt that he 
needed the thing more than we did, possibly, and it 
being such a small affair, what should it matter ?" 

But if it happens to be his thing which is taken by 
another, does he view it in that light? Does he pass 
it over as of no account? "No," you continue, "just 
the contrary. Then he may be indignant or angry." 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 243 

What, then, is the real difference between stealing 
money and just merely taking a sheet of paper belong- 
ing to another ? "There is no actual difference in prin- 
ciple," you admit. But why is it, then, that a person 
would take the one thing and not the other? I keep 
asking. 

"As to that," you explain, "it may be because the 
other thing seems very important, or because a good 
many people have a way of taking trifling things, 
whereas they would not actually take money." 

But do you suppose that grown men who steal money 
out of people's pockets, have been accustomed to do 
that all their lives, ever since they were children? 
"Probably not," you admit. And why not? "Well, in 
the first place," you reply, "they would have to learn 
how to do it without at once being found out." 

You think, then, that it must have begun in another 
way ? And in what way, would you suppose ? "As to 
that," you reply, "it would probably be by taking other 
things at first, about which people might not make so 
much of a fuss." 

You assume, do you, that actual stealing, as we call 
it, might come from simple carelessness on the part of 
a boy or girl in taking trifling things belonging to 
others? "Yes," you admit. 

Would such persons, when boys or girls, have taken 
actual money if they had been able to do it without 
being found out? "You doubt it?" 

And why not? "Oh, it would have seemed too aw- 
fully mean," you reply. "They would have felt ashamed 
of themselves, actually to have done anything like tak- 
ing money." 

But how is it that they get over feeling ashamed 
about such conduct when they grow older? How is 
it that a man finally becomes an actual thief, as we 
say? "As to that," you tell me, "it may be that the 
feeling of shame wore off and that he got into the 
habit of taking more important things after a while." 

What is the word you used just then? Got into 
w hat — did you say? "Into the habit," you answer. 



244 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

Do you actually mean to assert that a man could 
have a habit of stealing? "Yes indeed, why not?" you 
exclaim. It is hard to suppose, I insist, that a man 
could be so bad as all that. He might take money for 
instance, just once, under severe temptation, when he 
wanted it very much. But you do not mean to say 
that he would do it continually ? 

"Yes," you continue, "it must be so ; otherwise, there 
would not be so many criminals." 

You think that a criminal must be a man who has 
fallen into a habit of doing wrong? "Surely," you 
say. "A man is not liable to steal money or some large 
property unless he has been a thief in smaller ways 
before." 

You fancy, do you, then, that the actual criminals, 
the men who do such an awful thing as to steal money, 
take people's purses or watches, enter houses, and 
carry off the silver as burglars; that such men may not 
have been criminals from the very start, as children? 
"Not necessarily," you reply. 

Does every boy or girl who is careless about the 
property of others, in taking merely a sheet of paper 
for his own use, belonging to somebody else, always 
become a criminal? "Probably not/' you confess. 
"But at any rate," you add, "that is the way criminals 
would usually begin, by being careless about the rights 
of property." 

But suppose people who are careless in this way when 
they are boys or girls, in picking up what belongs to 
another, and using it for themselves, do not actually 
become criminals, in the sense of being ready actually 
to steal money. Could it affect them in any other way, 
in their dealings with others? 

"Yes," you suggest, "it may lead them to be unfair 
in what they have to do with others ; in not being ex- 
actly honest or square in their business dealings for 
instance." How, or in what way? 

"As to that," you suggest, "it might lead a man, 
who is a store keeper or shop keeper, not to be quite 
strict in the way he measured out things to people." 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 245 

You mean to say that it would be possible for a man 
to have scales which were not exactly right, or a meas- 
ure which was not exactly true ? 

Could it actually happen that a person might not fill 
the measure quite full, or give a full amount, when he 
was weighing out a pound ? That would be a kind of 
stealing. 

"True," you add, "but it does happen a great deal, ac- 
cording to the way people talk." Would such a man 
actually take money or purses or watches out of peo- 
ple's pockets? "Not necessarily," you reply. What 
would be the difference? I ask. 

"There is no great difference," you tell me. Why 
not? "Oh," you say, "it is taking the property of 
another just the same. If a man pays for a pound 
and does not get the full measure, a part of his money 
is actually taken by the man who does the measuring." 

Do you think it might happen, for instance, that one 
might buy a certian thing in a shop or store, get full 
measure of the article, yet not get the real thing that 
one asks for? "Yes, indeed," you exclaim, "that might 
happen again and again." 

But would it be possible, after you have asked for a 
thing and paid your money for it? "Oh, well," you 
reply, "one may not be able to know exactly what one 
is buying; the thing may be 'adulterated/ as people 
say." 

And what does that mean ? I ask. "Why, it implies 
mixing something else in with what one is selling, so 
that it shall not cost as much to the one who sells it." 

How can any man do such a thing? I ask. Why is 
such a man not locked up in prison ? Would that not 
be stealing ? "Yes," you hesitate, "but many people do 
it, however, so that one gets used to it." 

You evidently assume that there are a great many 
ways by which people may be careless about the 
rights of others, in regard to property, and yet not be 
considered actual thieves? Do you suppose, for in- 
stance, one could steal anything which could not be 



246 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

weighed on the scales? "How is that possible," you 
ask me? 

What if a man should publish a book and put his 
name as the author of it, and it should be found out 
afterwards that some of the pages in that book had 
been copied from another man's work. The actual 
book, the thing which could be weighed in the scales, 
would be the man's own property. But would there 
be any stealing there, any burglary ? 

"Yes," you admit, "it would be actual theft just the 
same." But what had been stolen? Not money or 
anything which could be weighed. "Why," you ex- 
plain, "he had stolen the work of another, the thoughts 
of another, the writings of another, and had called 
them his own." 

It is possible, then, that there are certain things which 
might be stolen and yet which could not be measured 
on the scales? "Surely," you exclaim. I suspect you 
are right there, and it is a very important point to be 
considered. 

One further question I want to ask you here. When 
stopping a person from interfering with your property, 
you would call out "that's mine." What would you 
say in speaking of something belonging to another 
person? "That's yours?" Yes. And the distinction 
we draw is between "yours and mine" is it? 

Which phrase do we use the more often, would you 
fancy, in the course of our lives? "That's yours," 
or the other? "Probably on that point," you assure 
me, "one says more often "that's mine." 

And why? I ask. "Because it is natural," you say. 
"One thinks more about the interference with one's 
own rights, than about the interference with the rights 
of another, the writings of another, and had called 
curious fact of human nature, which we ought to reflect 
about. 

In saying "that's mine," for instance, does it come 
only little by little as a habit that we gradually acquire? 
"Not by any manner of means." "It is just the con- 
trary," you assert. In what way do you mean? 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 247 

"It is like instinct," you answer ; "every one will ex- 
claim at once about something belonging to himself, as- 
serting 'that's mine.' " 

Is it also like an instinct, to be very careful not to 
interfere with the rights of others, and to always be 
ready to say, "that's yours" ? "Not to the same extent," 
you admit. 

It means, then, does it, that one is to be on guard a 
little in this matter; that it may come easy to be a 
little careless in regard to what belongs to another, 
while one is very positive about what belongs to one's 
self? 

Which habit, then, is the more important to cultivate, 
that of asserting the rights over one's own property, or 
of respecting the property of others ? "Why, the latter 
habit," you admit. 

And yet we have not quite done with the subject. 
When a person actually commits a theft, from whom 
does he take the thing? "Why, from a person." Are 
you sure of that? I ask. Is it always just from one 
person? 

"How could it be anything else?" you insist. But 
suppose, for instance, a man were to steal a ride on 
a railway train, by somehow managing to escape paying 
his fare. Whom has he cheated? "The conductor," 
you suggest. 

Does the conductor, the man who takes the tickets, 
actually lose the money? "No," you hesitate. Who 
does lose it, then? I insist. "Why, the railroad com- 
pany." 

But what is that company, the "Co." which goes to 
the name? It is not a person, is it? 'No," you smile. 
But can one steal from a thing? "Not exactly," you 
answer. 

Would you call it stealing, then ? Would it be actual 
theft ? How is it that we should use such a phrase as 
"steal a ride." "As to that," you explain, "it would be 
in a way stealing from those who own the railway." 

But how would they be affected by it ? I ask. What 
difference would it make? "W T hy," you point out, 



248 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

"there would be just that much less paid over to the 
persons who own the property ; they would get just that 
much less return for carrying on the railway." 

You think, then, do you, that one could steal from a 
number of persons indirectly, quite as much as from 
an individual man? "It looks that way," you answer. 

But which kind of stealing do you suppose would 
be more common, that of taking money out of people's 
pockets, entering houses and taking the silver and 
clothing; or, on the other hand, avoiding paying full 
money for what one gets on a railway or street-car, for 
instance ? 

"The latter would be the more common way," you 
fancy. And why? What reason would you suggest 
for it? "Perhaps," you continue, "it might be because 
one does not see the persons one is cheating. "The 
man who takes the ticket or does not get it, may not 
lose by it." 

Yes, perhaps that is it. We might call it an indirect 
form of stealing. It comes easier on that account. 
And people may fall into the habit of it much sooner 
than into the habit of taking actual money out of a 
man's pocket. But is it not stealing, nevertheless ? 

What if, for instance, the conductor who receives 
the money on a car, should keep part of it for himself. 
How would that strike you. "Oh, that would be steal- 
ing, of course," you admit. But what would be the 
difference between such an act and not paying one's 
fare for one's ride? 

Do people who do such things always feel that they 
are stealing? "No, indeed," you tell me. Yes, you are 
right. Many persons will do a thing like that who 
would not actually steal money out of people's pockets. 

But does this make it right? "No, surely not," you 
admit. How is it that they may not actually think 
of such acts as stealing? "Perhaps they have fallen 
into the habit of doing such things," you tell me. 

It all comes back to a matter of habit, does it, in not 
being strictly careful at the very start and all the way 
through one's life, about respecting the property of 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 249 

others? What, then, is the one command which has 
been handed down in former times, forbidding us 
in any way to interfere with other people's property ? 

"Thou shalt not steal ?" Yes, that is the whole of it. 
And what have we found this to really mean ? Having 
respect for what? "For the property of others/' you 
answer. 

Points of the Lesson. 

I. That a person has certain rights over his own property. 

II. That to interfere with such rights is like taking the 
property, and would be a form of stealing. 

III. That actual stealing among thieves is usually of money, 
or what can be sold for money; but that it does not usually 
begin in that way. 

IV. That stealing can only have become a habit by the loss 
of all sense of shame. 

V. That the loss of such a sense of shame might only occur 
by one's being careless in small ways about the rights of 
property. 

VI. That one may not become an actual thief, and yet have 
no true code of honor in selling or buying — that there can be a 
kind of half stealing as well as half lying. 

VII. That stealing may not always be of things which can 
actually be weighed. 

VIII. That we are naturally more emphatic in asserting 
"that's mine" than in asserting "that is yours." 

IX. That a strict regard for the property of others is a 
virtue which needs to be cultivated. 

X. That one could disregard property rights indirectly 
through stealing from a company of persons, as well as from 
an individual. 

XI. That in past times human beings have expressed their 
belief in the rights of property and in the wrong of interfering 
with those rights through the command: "Thou shalt not 
steal." 

Duties. 

I. We ought not to take for ourselves what belongs 
to another. 

II. We ought not to interfere with another in his 
rights over his property. 

III. We ought to give an exact and honest measure 
for everything we are paid for. 

IV. We ought to pay for what we receive, and to 
pay an honest price. 



250 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

V. We ought to be on our guard, lest we become 
careless in small matters, in regard to what belongs to 
others. 

VI. We ought to be very strict with ourselves in 
all our dealings with other people's property. 

Further Suggestions to the Teacher : This les- 
son will be more abstract than most of the others in the 
series on the "Habits." If thought advisable, the 
teacher could omit it altogether. Or, on the other 
hand, he might select just a few leading points from 
it and ignore the rest. It would depend in part as to 
whether the young people may afterwards be in a posi- 
tion, when older, to have instruction on a theme of 
this kind. If not, then they had better have it at such 
an early age than not at all. There is always the danger 
of evil results, from "suggestions" being given to the 
minds of the young, concerning methods which they 
had never thought of ; and in this way starting habits 
which would not have otherwise arisen. But on such 
matters, we rely on the good sense of a parent or a 
teacher. If we believe in the eternal value of the ethical 
principles of the Decalogue, then it may be well that 
these principles be brought home to young people at 
an early age. Temptation today is probably greater 
than ever before. Possibly it would be well to intro- 
duce some stories in connection with this theme, show- 
ing how certain persons had resisted temptation, and 
how others had yielded to it and experienced dire re- 
sults in consequence. 



CHAPTER XXX. 

CONSCIENTIOUSNESS. 

Proverbs or Verses. 

"Sell not thy conscience with thy goods." 
"You may often feel quite heavily on your back what you 
take lightly on your conscience." 

"There is a policeman in every man's conscience; you may 
not always find him on the beat." 

"A quiet conscience sleeps in thunder." 
"Conscience often stops at a mole-hill and leaps over a 
mountain." 

"A little stone may upset a large cart." 

"A pebble in the streamlet scant 
Has turned the course of many a river. 
A dew-drop on the baby plant 
Has bent the royal oak forever." 
"He that contemns little things shall perish little by little." 
"My conscience has a thousand several tongues." — Shakes- 
peare. 

Dialogue. 

It is a pretty long word that we have for a subject 
to talk about today and you may not know just what I 
mean. Watch me first as I write it down. 

It begins, you see — C-o-n-s-c-i-e-n : what is it going 
to be, do you think? ''Conscience," you suggest? Yes, 
it has something to do with Conscience. But it is a 
word twice as long. 

We will go on with it now : C-o-n-s-c-i-e-n-t-i-o-u-s- 
n-e-s-s. There it is. You know the word, even if it is 
a long one. But what does it mean ? 

"Why," you tell me, "it implies obeying one's con- 
science ; doing what one's conscience tells one to do." 
Yes, I answer, but rather hesitatingly, as you observe. 
It may mean more than that or less than that or just 
that, according to circumstances. 

Suppose, for instance, you were to hear of a man 
who had been tempted to steal $1,000 because the money 

251 



252 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

had been put in his way, and it was easy for him to carry 
it off. Now if he refused to give in to the temptation 
and did not steal the money, would you say he was a 
conscientious man ? 

"Yes and no," you answer. Why do you put it in 
that way? I ask. "Because," you explain, "he might 
obey his conscience under a big temptation like that, and 
yet not be what we should call conscientious." 

But why so? He had obeyed his conscience and would 
not steal all that money. "True enough," you add, "but 
that was a big temptation. He could know plainly that 
it meant stealing, that it was robbery, and that he would 
have to go to prison if it was found out." 

You think, then, that resisting a temptation in fear 
lest he might have to go to prison if he was discovered, 
would not be conscientiousness ? "Certainly not," you 
insist. 

Suppose he were perfectly sure that he would not 
have to go to prison, because he would not be found out, 
what if under those circumstances he refused to submit 
to the temptation ? In that case he would be obeying his 
conscience? 

"Yes?" You mean, then, that he would be a con- 
scientious man? "No, not necessarily," you continue. 
Why not? I ask. "Because," you reply, "it is a very big 
thing or a very wicked thing which he has been tempted 
to do, and he may find it easy to resist such a big temp- 
tation. 

How would it be, for example, if an employer were 
engaging a young man for work, where the employer 
would have to put a great deal of trust in the one whom 
he engaged, because there would be much temptation : 
if, now, he were told that this person had had an op- 
portunity to steal $1,000 without being found out, and 
had not done it, would he feel perfectly safe in employ- 
ing the young man ? "No, not by any means," you an- 
swer. But why not ? Did he not have the fact before 
him, that the person could resist temptation? 

"True," you exclaim, "but a person may be able to 
resist a big temptation like that, and not resist a little 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 253 

one." You do not assume, then, that obeying one's con- 
science in important matters always shows that one is a 
conscientious man? "No, indeed/' you tell me. 

Then how do we usually apply these words, "being 
conscientious," if it is not with regard to resisting temp- 
tations to steal large sums of money? "Why," you 
point out, "we use the word rather with regard to the 
person who has the habit of 'being strict' about small 
things, the very small temptations rather than large 
ones." 

What is the phrase I just heard from you, which you 
have not used before ; something about "being strict." 
What do you mean by that ? Usually we employ these 
words with other people, insisting that they shall do 
quite as they have agreed to do or what we demand that 
they shall do. Can it imply more than that? "Cer- 
tainly," you assure me, "it can mean 'being strict' with 
one's self." 

In what way, for instance? "Why," you continue, 
"one might be careless about compelling one's self to 
do everything one had intended to do, about keeping 
one's resolutions exactly, and so overlook one's resolu- 
tions in small things." 

You think, then, that one can be strict with one's self, 
just as one can be strict with other people? Which 
comes easier, do you suppose ? "Oh," you tell me, "of 
course it would be easier with other people than with 
one's self." 

And what kind of a habit are we considering when 
we talk about being strict with one's self? "Conscien- 
tiousness ?" 

Do you think that a boy or girl, or even a grown man 
or woman, could pass for being a good sort of a person, 
be called a good boy or a good girl, a good man or a 
good woman, in a general way, and yet not have this 
habit of being strict with themselves or "being conscien- 
tious ?" "Perhaps, in one way," you reply. 

How is that possible ? "Oh," you continue, "there is 
a way of being fairly honest and strict in the presence 
of others or when other people are around, and yet 



254 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

being rather careless or less strict when one is alto- 
gether by one's self." 

I am afraid that is true. Some persons may pass 
for being really good, trustworthy people, while, after 
all, in the long run, they prove otherwise, because they 
have not that habit of being strict with themselves 
when they are alone. 

As a rule, which do you fancy is the easier, to be 
conscientious when others are looking at you and 
know what you are doing, or being conscientious when 
no one is there to see you or watch you? "Why," you 
admit, "it comes harder when one is all by one's self." 
Why? I ask again. 

"Oh, for one reason," you answer; "because when 
we are alone we are not concerned by what other peo- 
ple may think of us in case we are not very strict about 
what we are doing." 

Note to the Teacher: In a subsequent series of lessons 
dealing with "The Home" we take up the subject of "Eye- 
Service," in connection with the lesson on "Obedience." Hence 
while we start this theme in the lesson on "Conscientiousness," 
perhaps it may be well to avoid the term "eye-service" and let 
it come in with the future lesson in the "Home Series." On 
the other hand, too much cannot be said in a roundabout way 
with regard to this point of being strict with one's self when 
no one is watching. 

Can you tell me of any way by which a person could 
be careless and not show conscientiousness, even while 
such a person would resist big temptations? Do you 
suppose it ever happens, I ask you, that a person could 
steal, without really thinking or knowing that he was 
stealing. "Yes," you reply, hesitatingly. 

In what way, for instance, would you suggest? 
"Why," you explain, "one might borrow something, 
as was pointed out in a previous lesson, "and then for- 
get to return it, because it was a very little thing." 

You mean that it would be stealing just the same, 
even if it was a little thing? "Yes, in a sense, it would," 
you answer. Could a person actually return what he 
had borrowed, and still be guilty of any stealing? 

What if the thine: we have borrowed has been 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 255 

slightly injured, just a very little, and we return it 
without saying anything about it. What do you call 
that ? "Oh," you say, "it would be a kind of a decep- 
tion." Yes, but anything more? "It would be mean," 
you assure me. 

True; anything further? "Yes," you admit, "it 
would be a kind of a stealing." Quite so. Now do you 
see how one might steal in such a small way ? 

"And still," you add, "the person would know what 
he was doing." Are you sure, however, that this al- 
ways happens ? What if a person should borrow some- 
thing and injure it, and forget all about it when re- 
turning it? 

"Yes," you admit, "but that would not be exactly 
right, it would show that such a person was not very 
strict with himself if he could injure what he had bor- 
rowed and then forget all about it." What would be 
the trouble, then? I ask. "Why," you explain, "it 
would show that he was not a very conscientious 
person." 

You see, we are coming to the point I have been 
talking about; how one can be strict about important 
things and not conscientious about small things, so that 
one can even steal without thinking about it, or know- 
ing that one is stealing. 

Do you think it ever might occur, for instance, that 
a person would go and take some little thing from a 
brother's or sister's room and forget to return it, or even 
lose it? "Yes, that might happen," you say. But would 
it be right? "Why," you add, "if it were a very small 
thing, what would it matter?" True, I answer, but it 
was something that belonged to another, even if it 
was a little thing. What ought he to have done? 

"Oh," you suggest, "he should have gone and asked 
his brother or sister, to begin with, before taking the 
thing." Do you think that we may injure the things 
belonging to our brothers and sisters, without intending 
to, exactly, just by being careless? "Yes," you admit. 

And what would you call that? Is it honest? "Not 
wholly," you answer. But would it be really wicked? 



256 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

"Why," you say, "not so very wicked, because we all 
use one another's things more or less in the home." 
But if it happened to be something belonging to you, 
would you care? 

"Yes," you assert, "in that case one certainly would." 
How would you feel about it ? "Oh, rather indignant," 
you say. And why ? I ask. "Because," you assure me, 
"we should feel as if it were not quite fair for any one 
else to use our things in that way and injure them." 
It would be a kind of stealing, then, would it? 

And if brothers and sisters do that sort of a thing, 
what good habit have they failed to cultivate ? "They 
are not strict with themselves," you assure me. 

As to this kind of conscientiousness, is it an easy 
habit to acquire, would you say? Do you think it 
would be easy for a person to be conscientious ? "You 
doubt it?" 

But why should it not be as easy to be strict as to 
be careless, to do the right thing as well as to do it 
about half right? "As to that," you say, "if one is 
conscientious, one has to be watching one's self all the 
time and it is tiresome." 

You assume, then, that it is a trifle irksome to be 
very conscientious ; that it comes a little hard to be 
strict with one's self all the time. It may be you are 
right, and perhaps that is the reason why many persons 
are not so very conscientious. 

When, however, we know a person who is very strict 
with himself, a person who is very careful about the 
little things in the way he deals with others as well as 
with himself, how do we feel in regard to him? Do 
we trust him more than others, feel safer in leaving 
him with our things or letting him have our things to 
use. "Yes, indeed," you assure me. 

Then conscientiousness, after all, makes people trust 
us more, does it? How about ourselves? Do you 
think it makes any difference about our being able to 
trust ourselves? 

You would say, I suppose, that if a person resistei a 
big temptation, his conscience stopped him. You mean 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 257 

by this that he felt in the presence of such a temptation 
as if he ought not to give in or do what he wanted to 
do at that moment ? 

But when one is not very strict with one's self about 
the little things, and forgets, for instance, the fact that 
he has injured something which he borrowed from an- 
other, why does not his conscience influence him and 
remind him ? Why did he not feel a little uneasy when 
he returned that thing which he had borrowed? 

"It may be," you explain, "he had done it so often 
that the uneasy feeling wore away." You mean, that 
one can be careless with one's self until by and by one 
fails to have uneasy feelings over the neglect of small 
duties. "Yes, surely," you answer. 

I wonder, by the way, if you have ever noticed how 
certain persons fail to be conscientious with regard to 
their promises. Do you think it might happen that a 
man would keep his important promises and yet be very 
careless about the little ones ? "Why," you assure me, 
"if he was careless about the little ones, by and by he 
would become careless about the big ones." 

This is true enough. But is there not a kind of 
promise which one sometimes gives without saying it 
outright in exact words ? For instance, you and I talk 
together about something, and from the way you speak 
I come to understand that you intend to do something 
or will do something, and you know that I have this 
understanding. Yet you have not said it in just so 
many words. 

Now in that case, what would the conscientious man 
do? "Oh," you explain, "he would try and live up to 
this understanding, even if the promise had not been 
given in exact words." 

But how would the other person be inclined to act ? 
"Why," you point out, "he might perhaps be strict 
about keeping his spoken word or downright promise, 
but yet be very careless about those 'understandings/ 
as we call them ; those agreements which we enter into 
sometimes, without making actual promises in words." 



258 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

Points of the Lesson; 

I. That being conscientious means being strict with one's 
self — especially in small matters. 

II. That the man who does not give in to a big temptation, 
may yet not be a trustworthy man. 

III. That the test of conscientiousness is in the way one deals 
with minor temptations. 

IV. That being conscientious means being strict with one's 
self when one is alone, or when one's conduct may never be 
found out. 

V. That being conscientious implies taking unusual care in 
the use of other persons' things. 

VI. That conscientiousness means great care in keeping 
one's exact promises, even in what one implies in one's 
promises. 

VII. That being conscientious in everything, small and great, 
gives one further self-respect and makes one trustworthy in 
the eyes of others. 

Poem. 

O Moon — said the children — O Moon, that shineth fair, 
Why do you stay so far away, so high above us there? 
O Moon, you must be very cold from shining on the sea; 
If you would come and play with us, how happy we should be! 

O children — said the Moon — I shine above your head, 

That I may light the ships at night when the sun has gone 

to bed; 
That I may show the weary boy his way across the moor, 
And bring the busy farmer home to his own cottage door. 

O Moon— said the children — may we shine in your place? 
They say that I have sunny hair, and I a sparkling face. 
To light the ships and weary boys we greatly do desire; 
And you might come and warm yourself before the nurs'ry fire! 

O children — said the Moon — we have each allotted parts: 
'Tis yours to shine by love divine on happy human hearts; 
'Tis mine to make the pathway bright of wanderers that roam; 
'Tis yours to scatter endless light on those that stay at home! 

— Anonymous. 

Further Suggestions to the Teacher : We have started 
a subject in this lesson, which might be carried on in- 
definitely. One must be cautious about letting the word 
"conscientious" mean exactly the same as "conscience." 
We must be on our guard about giving the impression 
that conscience applies only to small things. But as 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 259 

the carelessness more often is connected with the disre- 
gard for one's conscience in minor matters, the empha- 
sis should go in that direction. There is also the other 
reason for dwelling very much on conscientiousness, in 
that the habit of being strict on small matters, seems 
nowadays to be on the wane, partially through the con- 
tempt for the old-fashioned Puritanism. But it is very 
important that we should try to keep this phase of Puri- 
tanism alive. While there are exceptional instances of 
persons being naturally over-conscientious and having 
too many scruples so as to become positively morbid, 
yet these exceptions are rare. The danger lies in the 
other direction. We can risk the possibility of making 
the person over-conscientious, far more than we can 
risk the chances of letting him become careless about 
the minor duties which make up so much of our daily 
life. A special emphasis should be laid on the careless- 
ness of many persons in the way they use public prop- 
erty. Point out how people may abuse furniture in a 
hotel and sometimes cause far more injury than is paid 
for in the bill. Apply this to other experiences in the 
lack of conscientiousness in the use of utilities belong- 
ing to a whole community — books from a library, for 
instance. It would be well to collect quite a large num- 
ber of examples of this kind, because the opportunities 
for lack of conscientiousness in these matters are grow- 
ing all the while. A very serious danger menaces the 
human conscience in this special direction. It applies 
also to the care or carelessness we exhibit in our use of 
property of corporations. We shall accomplish a great 
deal, if we can cultivate a little more of the disposition 
of being "strict" in regard to the way we deal with the 
property we may own in common with others in a so- 
ciety or community, or with the property owned by a 
body of persons, like a corporation. There are persons 
who show very fine scruples in their conduct in relation 
to other individuals, but who seem to be utterly want- 
ing in scruple, on the other hand, in this larger sense 
we speak of. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 
HABIT OF SPEAKING- THE TRUTH. 
Proverbs or Verses. 

"He that does not speak the truth to me, does not believe me 
when I speak the truth." 

"He that does not fully speak the truth, is a traitor to it. — 
Latin. 

"No crime is more infamous than the violation of truth." — 
Dr. Johnson. 

"Oil and truth will get uppermost at last." 

"Though malice may darken truth, it cannot put it out." 

"Truth crushed to earth will rise again, 

The eternal years of God are hers; 
But error wounded writhes in pain, 

And dies among her worshipers." — Bryant. 

"Truth gives a short answer; lies go round about." 

"Truth hath a quiet breast.' — Shakespeare. 

"Truth is above everything else, though truth is not always 
agreeable." 

"Truth is mighty and will prevail." 

"Truth is a daughter of time." 

"Truth needs not many words, but a false tale a large pre- 
amble." 

"Truth seeks no corner." 

"A thousand probabilities do not make one truth." — Italian. 

"Equivocation is first cousin to a lie." 

"Who ever knew truth put to the worst in a free and open 
encounter." — Milton. 

Dialogue. 

Does it always come easy to tell the truth? "No," 
you smile. But why not? "It is quite the contrary," 
you answer ; "oftentimes it comes verv hard to tell the 
truth." 

And what do we call the opposite of the truth, when 
we use plain language? "A lie," you say. Yes. And 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 261 

do you suppose it ever happens that people tell lies? 
"Of course, many people do," you assert. 

Do you mean straight, clear, unvarnished lies, with 
no whitewash, no effort to deceive ones self into make- 
believe as if one were telling the truth? "Yes," you in- 
sist, "people will tell plain, downright lies." 

How often, do you suppose? — once in a lifetime? 
"It depends on the person," you reply. Can you really 
think of anybody telling a lie more than once ; I mean a 
straight, out-and-out lie, where a man knows plainly 
that he is lying? Would not once be enough for a life- 
time ? 

"Oh," you add, "if he did it once, it would be all the 
more reason why he would probably tell another lie and 
still another." After all, is it not easier to tell the truth 
than to tell a lie? "It depends on the occasion," you sug- 
gest. 

In what way, do you mean? "Why," you say, "the 
temptation might be great, or the misfortune might be 
very severe, that would come upon a person if he told 
the truth." 

But how do you suppose a man would feel after hav- 
ing told the truth when it came hard, or after telling a 
lie when he really hated to do so? Under which cir- 
cumstances would he feel easier in mind ? 

"It would depend," you explain, "on how many times 
he had told lies." 

Yes, I suppose that is true. And what do we call the 
man who tell lies ? "A liar," you answer. 

Tell me now, candidly, which would you rather suf- 
fer from a man, if you had to have one experience or 
the other— would you rather have him strike you, or 
tell you a downright lie? Do you know, there are 
persons who would choose the first? How do you 
account for this ? 

"Oh," you say, "a lie seems so awfully mean." Yes, 
but if so, how is it that people can tell lies ? "Perhaps 
because they are mean people," you suggest. 

Do you think they were mean people when they first 
began to tell lies? "No, not necessarily," you answer. 



262 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

Do you assume it comes natural to be a liar? 
"No," you insist, "it would be far more natural to tell 
the straight truth just as one knows it." 

But you said to me at the outset that telling the truth 
often came hard. "True," you add, "but that is be- 
cause doing this may cost us very much in one way or 
another, or be to our disadvantage. What is more," 
you assure me, "people do not tell the truth to us al- 
ways, and that makes it harder for us to be truthful to 
them." 

You mean to imply that one liar tends to make 
another liar? "It looks that way," you admit. 

As a rule, if a man were to be called either a fool or 
a liar, which would seem to be the greater blow to his 
honor? "Either one would be bad enough," you 
answer. Yes, that is true ; and yet, do you know, that 
about the worst blow to a person's honor, according to 
the feeling in human beings for hundreds of years past, 
has been when a man says, "You lie ?" 

Why is this, do you suppose ? Why should he care ? 
When he is called a fool, is not that worse ? It is saying 
in so many words that he has a weak mind. 

"True," you reply, "a man may have a weak mind 
and yet have honor, or character." It would look, then, 
as if somehow the human race, at least since civiliza- 
tion began, had felt that about the lowest charge which 
could be made against a man was to call him a liar. 

Do you know, for instance, what a duel means ? As a 
rule, we do not have them nowadays. "Yes," you ex- 
plain, "it is when two men challenge each other to fight 
to the death, each trying to shoot or to kill the other." 

And are you aware that a great many of the most 
awful duels in former times have occurred on account 
of that one charge? It was felt that if a man accused 
another of being a liar, it was the duty of the other man 
to challenge the first to a duel to the death. 

Nowadays we feel that the right of life and death is 
not in our own hands, and that it is not our privilege to 
punish another in that way, even where the other de- 
serves it. But I tell you this, in order that you may 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 263 

know how human beings have felt about the indignity 
or meanness of a lie. 

But why should we care, for instance, if a man tells 
us a lie ? It might not affect us one way or the other. 
Suppose we know that it is a lie. What difference does 
it make? 

"Oh, but," you say, "it does make a difference; "it is 
treating us as if we were not fit persons to whom the 
truth should be told." 

You mean that telling a lie to a man is treating him 
like a brute? Then, lying, for instance, is something 
more than just telling what is not true. It is a slur 
upon the honor of the man to whom the lie is told. It 
is mean and low. 

By the way, have you ever heard the word "honor" ? 
"Oh, yes," you say. What do you suppose it means ? 
For instance, it is sometimes said that a man has lost 
his honor. What do you understand by this? "Why," 
you explain, "it would show that he has done some- 
thing so that people could no longer put confidence in 
him." And what would that imply? "It would mean 
that he would lie," you answer. 

If, on the other hand, we say of a man that he is a 
thoroughly honorable man, what does it suggest ? "As 
to that," you tell me, "it means that he can be trusted ; 
that people always feel sure in their dealings with him 
that he will deal squarely, that he will be true and tell 
the truth." 

What is it, then, that usually goes with truth-speak- 
ing as a habit? "Trust," you answer. Yes, quite so, 
trust in a man's honor. Men who speak the truth 
always, without any exception, are men who are to be 
trusted. 

But why is it that some men are not considered to 
be exactly dishonorable, as men who have lost their 
honor; and yet, on the other hand, when they are 
mentioned it is felt that they could not be quite alto- 
gether trusted ? 

"Oh," you add, "it means that they do not always tell 
the exact truth; that they try to get around it; that 



264 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

they equivocate." Would it imply that they had the 
habit of telling lies? "Not quite that," you answer, 
"it would be not telling the whole plain truth." 

How is it that one can equivocate, without necessa- 
rily telling a downright lie? "That is easy enough," 
you answer, "one can leave out part of what is true, or 
change the impression of what one is saying by a look 
on the face ; or one can use words in one way when one 
knows that others do not understand them quite in the 
way one is using them." 

And what do you call that ? "Equivocation ?" Yes, 
and what kind of a lie do we sometimes term it? "A 
white lie," you say. 

Have you any idea how such a name ever arose? 
"Well, for instance," you tell me, "it may have come 
about because people would try to deceive and yet, as it 
were, whiten over what they were telling, so that it 
would not be altogether a lie." 

As a rule, how do you suppose that people who have 
fallen into the habit of telling downright lies of the 
blackest kind, began the habit? "Oh, probably by 
equivocating or telling what we call white lies." 

You mean that this would make it easier by and by 
for a man to get into the habit of telling any kind of a 
lie whatever? "Yes, surely," you answer. 

But which habit would you say was the easier to ac- 
quire ; the habit of telling lies, or the habit of telling the 
truth? "It depends on circumstances," you tell me; "if 
a man is living with other people who are given to tell- 
ing lies, it will be easier for him to fall into the same 
habit." Then lying is contagious, is it, like diseases? 
"Yes," you smile. 

Now turn to the other side, the habit of speaking the 
truth. What would be the surest way of acquiring that 
habit, can you suggest? "One way, for instance, would 
be," you assure me, "by avoiding white lies, by taking 
care not to equivocate, by keeping to the strict or exact 
truth all the time." 

By the way, what kind of men are usually the most 
esteemed, would you say, as a rule, the world over? 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 265 

"Oh, the men who have power, or a good deal of 
money," you answer. Do you really mean that ? I ask. 
I spoke of esteem, you notice. 

"Well," you tell me, "it may be that such men are not 
exactly 'esteemed' most highly, altho they are admired 
and talked about a great deal." Does it always fol- 
low that a man of wealth is a man of honor, for 
example ? 

"No," you admit, "it may sometimes be quite the 
contrary." 

Then really what class of men do we most esteem, 
the men of wealth just for the sake of their wealth, or 
the men of honor? You assure me, "when it comes 
to esteem, we esteem the men of honor." 

Yes, that is true. Many a man has said that he was 
willing to let his wealth go, become poor, see all his 
money pass out of his hands, if only he could keep his 
honor. 

And what did that mean? "Why," you tell me, "it 
would imply that he wanted to feel that people still 
could trust him just the same, so that people would be 
sure that he always was a man of his word and spoke 
the truth." 

By the way, when a man tells his first lie, how does 
he probably look in his face. "He may blush, or show 
a sense of shame," you suggest. Yes, I believe that is 
true. 

And why? I ask you. "Oh, because he would feel 
so mean." Again, let me ask you : Which do you sup- 
pose is the worse of two forms of crime; to lie, or to 
steal? Have you ever thought of that? "Why," you 
answer, "perhaps to steal would be worse, because one 
may get punished and be put into prison if one steals." 

Yes, that is true. And yet how do you account for 
this saying I have met with from a famous man : 

"No crime is more infamous than the violation of 
truth." Was he mistaken, do you suppose? 

"Not necessarily," you confess. Why not? I ask. 
"Oh," you suggest, "a lie may seem all the worse just 
because it is not punished as a crime" 



266 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

I am not sure but that a wrong such as lying is worse 
than stealing. They are both awfully bad. Do you 
think, for instance, that the men who are in prison for 
stealing, were guilty of that sort of a crime before they 
had ever told lies ? 

"Probably not," you fancy. You mean, do you, that 
they began first by telling lies, and that lying led to 
stealing? "Yes," you say. Perhaps that is true. 
Somehow when a man tells a lie, it is just as if his honor 
went all to pieces, as if his character were all gone. 
No one feels sure of him about anything. We feel as if 
the next step for him naturally, would be to steal. 

Has it ever happened, do you suppose, that a man 
has faced death rather than tell a lie ? I can assure you 
there have been men who loved the truth so much, who 
have been so in the habit of speaking the truth, that 
rather than lie they have gone to their death. 

I might tell you, for instance, of a man who at one 
time had expressed his views on certain religious sub- 
jects, asserting just what he believed ; and when he had 
done so, he was threatened with the pain of death if he 
did not take it all back. He was afraid for a time and 
so wrote what he called a recantation, denying what he 
first said. And then he felt so ashamed, repented so 
bitterly, that he withdrew his recantation and came 
out once more asserting just what he believed. And 
they burned him at the stake. And do you know what 
he did ? He held out his right hand with which he had 
signed that recantation and allowed that hand to burn 
of! in the flame, in order to show his shame and repent- 
ance for the lie he had told. He wanted to feel that 
now at the end he had stood by the truth and was dying 
for what he believed to be true. 

Plave you ever thought how it is that sometimes we 
apply the truth not only to speaking, or to what one 
says, but to the kind of life a man leads. "Yes," you 
answer, "sometimes we talk of a man leading a true life 
or being a true man." 

What do you suppose that means? Is it just the 
same as speaking the truth or always telling the truth ? 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 267 

"No," you say, "it is more than that ; it would some- 
how imply that if a man had led that sort of a life, his 
conduct had been true as well as his language." Yes, 
but what would you understand by "true conduct" ? 

"Perhaps," you suggest, "it means where a man has 
kept the rules he has laid down for himself, 'been true 
to his conscience,' as one says." 

You assume, then, do you, that there is a certain way 
in which one can be true to one's self besides always 
speaking the truth in what one says to others? You 
think that a man might be true to his word always, in 
what he said to others, so that people could believe him 
in whatever he told them ; and yet that same man might 
fail to keep his own good resolutions. He might lose 
self-control, for example, and fall into the habit of 
showing anger when he had intended not to do so. 

If a man were to act in that way, break his own good 
resolutions, lose his self-control, talk angrily, or eat too 
much, be a glutton, for instance, would such a man be 
what you would call a true man, even if he never told 
lies ? 

"No, not exactly," you admit. Why not? I ask. "Be- 
cause," you explain, "he would not be true to himself, 
to his own resolutions, or true to his conscience." Then 
it looks, does it not, as if being true meant even more 
than always speaking the trtuh. 

Listen to these words from a great poet : 

"Truth is the strong thing. Let man's life be true." 

What does this mean ; mainly just speaking the truth 
at all times? "No/' you answer, "it would imply also 
being true to one's conscience, not doing what one 
would be ashamed of doing." 

You are right. Grand as it is for a man to have the 
habit of speaking the truth, it is even more grand and 
noble where a man makes his whole life true. 

Do you suppose, however, that a man could have his 
life true, and yet not have the habit of speaking the 
truth? "No," you smile, "that would be out of the 
question." 



268 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

Why ? I ask. "Because," you assure me, "if he did not 
speak the truth, he would also not be true to himself, 
would not be true to his conscience. He would do what 
he would be ashamed of doing." 

Yes, but anything more than that? If he failed to 
speak the truth, what else might follow ? "Oh," you re- 
ply, "he would be pretty sure before long to be untrue 
to himself in other ways." How, for instance ? "Why," 
you say, "he would be careless about keeping his reso- 
lutions in regard to his own conduct in other respects/' 

Yes, if a man does not have the habit of speaking the 
truth, the rest of his conduct is liable to be untrue also. 
He is pretty sure to lack self-control, and to "go to 
pieces," as we say, in all sorts of ways. 

Suppose now we put this last point on the black- 
board. Write it down so that we shall see the words 
before our eyes. Put first the words, "Speaking the 
Truth," then underneath it, "Being True in One's 
Life." Opposite, as covering them both, write the 
words, "The Habit of Truth." 

Do you see how in a certain way, the habit of truth 
may perhaps cover all the good habits we have talked 
about in this series of lessons? 

Points of the Lesson. 

I. That telling the truth at all times and under 'all circum- 
stances comes pretty hard. 

II. That we call the person who knowingly speaks what is not 
true, a liar. 

III. That people who have a fine sense of honor would sooner 
be struck by a blow with the fist than to have this title "liar" 
attached to them. 

IV. That a lie is a slur upon the honor of the man to whom 
the lie is told, as well as a reflection on the honor of the man 
who tells it. 

V. That there are persons who may not tell downright lies 
at first, and yet in what they say, may not always tell the 
whole, plain truth. We call this, equivocation or a white lie. 

VI. That people who are liars, usually have begun their 
fall by allowing themselves to acquire the habit of equivocating. 
The white lie at first usually leads to the black lie afterwards. 

VII. That lying is contagious. Those who tell lies lead other 
people to reciprocate, and so foster the habit of lying among 
Others. 



A STUDY OF HABITS. 269 

VIII. That the men who stand in the highest esteem are 
usually the men who are the most true in their speech. 

IX. That a lie seems all the worse as an evil act, because it 
may not be punished as a crime — as stealing is punished. 

X. That being true means not merely always telling the truth 
to others, but also applies to the way one keeps one's resolu- 
tions or is true to one's self or to one's conscience. 

XI. That the man who does not have the habit of "being 
true," is liable to "go to pieces" in all his conduct. 

XII. That "being true" means being true in one's life. The 
man who in the highest sense is true to himself will be the 
man who is true to all the world. 

Memory Gem. 

"Truth is the strong thing; let man's life be true." 

— Browning. 

Lines Or Verses. 

"Think truly, and thy thoughts 

Shall the world's hunger feed; 
Speak truly, and each word of thine 

Shall be a fruitful seed: 
live truly, and thy life shall be 

A great and noble creed." — Bonar. 

Further Suggestions to the Teacher : In this les- 
son we should try and emphasize the habit of speaking 
the truth rather than dwell too much upon the habit of 
telling lies. Concerning the latter, the better way 
is to arouse in the mind a sense of disgust or a 
sense of horror for a lie, and leave that sense of dis- 
gust or horror to exert its own influence. It were better 
to move the young people by giving them pictures 
of true honor and of true men who have stood by the 
truth. So, too, in the same way one can describe equivo- 
cation and white lies. Speak of them with disgust 
or with horror. Make the young people understand 
what is meant by the half-lie. We can connect it in 
their minds with the downright lie. But all the while 
we should try to reach them on this side in an indirect 
way. It is a sad fact, but one we must face, that very 
few people always tell the truth. Do not go into the 
question as to whether a lie is ever justifiable. Ques- 
tions of casuistry of that kind serve no purpose for 



270 A STUDY OF HABITS. 

younger children. We shall accomplish more by arous- 
ing a sense of contempt for any kind of untruth. We 
could give a number of illustrations of brave men who 
have stood by the truth. It will be seen that we have 
kept this lesson distinct from the one on "Habits of 
Deception." Naturally they belong together as one 
theme. But while it may be exceedingly hard to eradi- 
cate any possible disposition to deception, we can im- 
plant in their minds a revulsion of feeling against the 
lie, and a sense of awe on their part for honor and truth. 
The last few paragraphs about "being true" have been 
inserted as a kind of climax to the series of studies 
concerning "Habits," While the chief emphasis in the 
lesson should be laid on speaking the truth, yet we 
migkt take the opportunity of using a few moments at 
the close, to dwell on the motto : Being True. 



1903 



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